What could have been and what now never will be
by the.ghost.writer.girl
Summary: Set after Danny's high school graduation, but it's like Phantom Planet never happened. Danny's depressed and suicidal. Can Sam and Jazz get through to him before it's too late? AU, Danny is very OOC due to the events in the story. Rated T for violence, angst, language, undertones of death, self-injury and just because it's a dark fanfiction.
1. Chapter 1

*Then*

I had just graduated high school.

The wind that was blowing felt cool on my skin. My hair ruffled in the breeze.

My graduation gown clung to my skin with a layer of sweat.

I mopped my forehead with my over sized sleeve.

When I looked out into the crowd, I saw my parents sitting in the folding chairs that were all on the lawn.

They had big smiles on their faces and my sister was seated next to them.

Her expression mirrored my parents'.

Further down in line, stood my girlfriend Sam Manson.

Behind me stood my best friend Tucker Foley.,

He tapped on my shoulder and leaned close to me, his breath hot on my neck.

"Can you believe we finally made it here? Graduation day." He whispered.

I smiled.

"Yeah, I can." I whispered back.

I got chills down my spine, when I heard our principal call out, "Presenting this years graduating class!"

*Now*

I look at my arms. At the many scars that litter across them. They're scary and ugly.

I run my fingers across them. 'I did this', I think to myself.

"Dinner's ready!" My mother calls.

I lean my head against my headboard, squeezing my eyes closed against the memories of graduation day.

"Danny, supper's ready!" She calls again.

I hear my fathers voice downstairs.

After another look at my scars, I roll my sleeves down.

I stand up from my bed and look around my room.

Gone are the posters of bands or musical artists I was once into.

Gone are the childish things I used to hold on to. There is no chance for me to remember what used to be.

My walls are bare.

Except for one photo...of my ex-girlfriend, Sam Manson.

It was a photo of the two of us on graduation day. I was holding her, piggy-back style.

We both had the biggest smiles on our faces.

And why shouldn't we have? We were in love.

We were young. Innocent. Naive.

On the back, written in her beautiful scripty handwriting were three words.

I miss you...

It was in my mail box six weeks after graduation.

"Danny, your foods getting cold! Get down here now!" My father yells.

I tear my gaze away from the photo and trudge downstairs for dinner.

Let the family drama begin.

*Then*

The flash of the camera went off, blinding both Sam and I.

She giggled and kissed the back of my neck.

I grinned and let her back down onto the ground.

"I love you." She whispered against my neck, my back still facing her.

In an instant, I whirled around to face her.

I scooped her up in my arms and held her above me.

"I love you more Samantha Jane Manson."

She grinned a huge grin, her tongue running across her teeth.

My superhuman strength had doubled since I'd fought Freakshow during that cross country trip three summers ago.

"If you love me...kiss me." She whispered.

I lowered her until her lips were inches from mine.

"I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you."

Her eyes sparkled.

The breeze blew through her hair, gently swaying it.

Her lips gently touched mine and I wrapped my arms around her waist, slowly lowering her back down to earth.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer to her.

"I love you." She gasped when we pulled away for air.

"Sam, I promise you baby, I will love you until the end of time." I replied, kissing her collarbone.

"Uh, why don't you guys get a room?" Tucker cackled from behind us.

I turned around, giving him a glare.

His arm was wrapped around Star's skinny waist.

His eyebrows went up on his forehead.

I laughed. "Tuck, I'll see you later."

He wiggled his eyebrows, then gave a shrug.

Nonchalantly, he turned to Star. "Would you like some champagne? I am eighteen after all..."

I wasn't about to correct Tucker on the legal drinking age.

He was a big boy. And besides...if he left right now, it meant more time with Sam before the ceremony started.

I turned back toward the gorgeous black haired girl in my arms.

*Now*

I step into the dining room, my eyes on the floor.

My father makes a noise of disgust and I look up to glare at him.

"Could you at least take that thing out while you're eating?" He asks, clearly annoyed with me already.

As if he has any right to be.

Slowly, I move my fingers up to my lip ring.

He watches me fiddle with it, then drop my hand back down.

"No." I reply flatly, my voice a crisp monotone. Void of all emotion.

He rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to his plate.

I sit down in a chair farthest away from my parents.

After Jazz left for college two years ago, dinner with my parents had been a bit awkward.

But now it's pure Hell.

I look down at my food and make a noise of disgust.

My mother looks over at me. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm a vegetarian, remember?" I snap, pointing to the lump of meatloaf on my plate.

"Meats good for you." My father interrupts.

I glare at him. "I don't believe I was talking you."

Without waiting for him to respond, I look back at my mom.

She darts her nervous eyes between us.

I jab my index finger at the meat. "I can't eat that."

"It won't kill you." My father interjects.

"Shut the hell up!" I yell, slamming my fists down onto the table.

My fathers face turns a blotchy red color.

I stand and shove my chair back.

"Where are you going?" My mother asks.

I stalk out of the room without another word and step outside into the chilly December air.

As I start walking, I dig my crumpled pack of Marlboro's out of my pocket.

I light one up and take a long drag from it.

My fathers red face dances in my vision.

I take another drag, wishing it would go away.

Sooner than I expected, I reach my intended place.

Amity Park Spirits.

The only bar in town that doesn't know my ID is fake.

I push open the door, loving the scent.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's the next chapter guys. Please let me know what you think by reviewing it. :) By the way, I'm trying to work it out to where I begin every chapter with 'then' and end it with 'now'. But I haven't done that yet. Anyway, let me know what you think and enjoy! **

* * *

*Then*

I swung Sam's hand back and forth, grinning like a fool.

She grinned back and shoved my shoulder.

I pretended to stagger from her shove, and she giggled.

"You're such a dork." She stuck her tongue out.

I put my hands on her waist and lifted her into the air.

I spun her around and around the green lawn of the high school until we were both too dizzy to speak.

Breathless, the two of us collapsed on the grass.

She turned her face toward me, a few beads of sweat near her temple.

"I can't believe we're graduating." She said.

"I can't believe my dream college let me in." I replied.

She sent me a sideways grin. "I can't believe your dream college just so happens to be close to the record company I'm going to be interning for this fall."

I gave her my lopsided smile.

She laughed and pushed me again.

This time, I allowed myself to fall back onto the grass.

The sky above me was a perfect blue and there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

*Now*

I throw a dart at the dartboard, and take a long pull from my beer bottle.

The dart I threw sails past the board and stabs the wall, embedding itself.

The dart wobbles back and forth as it sticks to the wall.

I pick up another dart and try to get my mind to focus on the dartboard in front of me.

But instead of one, I see two.

And in an instant, they change shape and morph into what looks like my ex-girlfriend.

"Shit." I mumble and look down at the ground.

I hear her voice in my head and know that I have to get out of here.

I pay for my beer and stagger out of the bar.

My head is buzzing, and I can't concentrate. Sam...

"She..." I mumble before realizing it's futile.

Even in my hazy mind, I know that I'm in no state to go home.

I continue staggering on the side of the road, until a car pulls up beside me.

The window rolls down.

"Fenton?" The voice calls out.

I turn toward the car.

In the front seat is a very blurry Kwan.

His mouth is agape as he stares at me.

I look away and keep walking.

"Come on, I'll give you a ride home." He says.

I shake my head. "I'm not going home right now."

I continue walking and he continues driving slowly beside me.

"Then how about you come back to my place? You can stay the night and sleep off most of your drunken stupor." He says.

Suddenly, something snaps inside of me and I whirl toward him.

"Why the hell are you being nice to me?" I demand. "You hated me in high school."

Kwan stares back at me, his car now at a complete stop.

I stare at him, expecting an answer.

When he doesn't say anything, I give a disgusted scoff and start walking away.

His car begins inching forward again.

I stop walking and his car stops too.

He gives me a small smile. "I never hated you, Danny."

I stare at him, studying his face.

Slowly, I take another step forward and his car jerks forward.

I snicker. "You're pretty damn determined, aren't you?"

He grins. "Come on, get in."

I take a few steps toward his car and open the passenger door.

*Then*

Sam and I were walking around the school grounds when we bumped into my parents.

My father gave me a big grin and my mom gave me a hug.

"We're so proud of you, son." She said, giving me a gentle squeeze.

When I pulled away, she hugged Sam.

After my mom pulled away from her, I noticed the tears on her cheeks.

"Mom?" I asked.

She dabbed at her cheeks with the backs of her hands. "I'm fine."

She sniffled as my father put his arm around her.

"It's just, my last baby is graduating high school."

She smiled at me, then glanced at my father and sighed.

"Is Jazz here?" I asked, looking around.

My father nodded. "Yeah, she's around here somewhere."

I grinned. "Sweet, I'm glad she could make it."

"Well, we'll let you get back to spending time with each other." My mom smiled. "We wouldn't want to embarrass you by hanging out with you."

I smiled. "Ok, you guys have fun."

My parents wandered off and I turned back toward Sam.

"Sorry about that." I said.

"I don't mind." She replied, giving me a smile. "I actually like your parents."

"Yeah, they've got the parenting thing down right now." I said.

"Yeah?" Sam self-consciously fiddled with my class ring that I'd given her toward the end of senior year. "Today is all about my parents. For some reason, it's a reflection on them."

I gathered her up in my arms and held her close against my chest.

"I'm sorry." I whispered and pecked a kiss to her forehead.

She shook her head and pulled away. "Don't make me cry, I've already had to re-do my makeup twice."

I gave her a smile and squeezed her hand. "I love you."

She smiled back. "I love you too."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: If you've reviewed, favorited, followed or read this story - Thanks! :) Enjoy this update! **

* * *

*Now*

Kwan drives me back to his apartment, as promised.

As soon as we walk through the front door, I'm in awe.

His place is the biggest apartment I've ever seen.

Despite the fact that the furniture is minimalistic, his place is awesome.

On one wall, a huge flat screen television hangs. Directly across, are a leather couch and a matching arm chair.

Kwan takes his jacket off and throws his keys on the side table beside the couch.

I'm self-conscious in his apartment - I don't belong.

"Pull up a chunk of couch." He says, indicating his five seat black leather couch.

I gently ease down onto the couch.

Kwan steps out of the room and I glance at the spot where he disappeared.

Slowly, I look around at his apartment.

This isn't the first time I've slept at someone else's house because I was too drunk to go home.

It's just the first time I've been to Kwan's.

He comes back into the room, carrying a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin.

"Here. This won't cure you, but it'll help with the headache." He says.

I take the bottle and the water from him. "I don't have a headache."

"You will." He replies. "I've been drunk enough to know."

"Really?" I ask, setting the bottle of pills next to me on the table.

Kwan doesn't know how many times *I've* been drunk, just within the last six months.

It's possible that that's a good thing...

He sits down at the opposite end of the couch and gives me a nod. "Yeah, my old friend Dash, you remember him, right? He used to throw parties all the time in high school. There was almost always alcohol." He says, grinning.

"I wouldn't know. I was never invited." I say.

Truth is, I could care less if they invited me or not.

It's just...Kwan's here right now and I want to lash out at someone.

His smile fades, and he gives a shrug. "It wasn't anything personal."

"Yeah, whatever." I roll my eyes and look around his living room.

"So what are you doing?" He asks.

I take a sip of the water. "Sitting."

He chuckles. "No, I meant since high school. What are you doing for a career?"

"Oh." I say, then shrug and look at the ground. "The same, I guess."

"Haven't decided what you're going to be?" He asks.

I shake my head, then give another shrug. "I suppose that's it."

"It'll come to you." He says.

'Doubt it.' I think.

But on the outside, I nod again.

My parents say that I've gotten great at lying. But no one knows how deep my lies really go.

"What are you doing for a career?" I ask Kwan more to be polite than out of actual interest.

"I'm a football player." He says, then sighs and adds. "And a part time model."

Kwan? A model? I had Dash pegged for becoming a model.

Apparently I was wrong.

I shake my head. "Really? That's cool."

"No it's not. It's lame. I have to work my way through college. But I have no work ethic so I have to do something that a lazy and unintelligent person can handle." He rakes a hand through his hair.

"Hey, its a step above stripping." I joke.

He smiles. "True."

"And I've heard that modeling makes good money." I say.

He nods. "It does. That's how I'm able to afford this place. Otherwise I'd be living on campus."

Before I can say anything else, he stands up.

"Anyway, I've got an early photo shoot tomorrow. Feel free to crash here tonight and tomorrow if you want to. I'll be out of here tomorrow morning by eight." He says, then adds. "But you don't have to be."

"Should I lock up if I leave?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No, don't worry about it. I'll talk to my doorman, he'll take care of it."

"Ok." I respond quietly.

Kwan stares at me and I pretend not to notice. He stares at the dark clothing, at the fire engine red streaks in my black hair, at the black fingernail polish and eyeliner that my father hates.

He stares at the tattoo on the side of my neck, and at the scars on my face and wrists- the only visible part of my body that I've harmed.

After he's stared for a few minutes, he gives me another once over. "I thought your girlfriend was the emo one."

"Ex-girlfriend." I correct. "And she was goth."

"Oh." He replies.

I nod. "Thanks for letting me stay here, Kwan. I really appreciate it."

I purposely close the conversation about Sam. I don't like talking about her. In fact...I don't really like talking at all anymore.

He nods. "Not a problem. Let me get you some spare blankets and pillows."

He leaves the room and I glance at the pill bottle.

If I took them all now, I'd be dead before the morning.

Just as I was seriously contemplating how sweet the outcome would be, Kwan spoke and scared the shit out of me.

"Here, these should keep you warm." He says.

I jump and whip my head back toward him. "Jesus! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"Sorry. Wasn't intentional." He says, then deposits the blankets and pillows onto the couch.

I take a few deep breaths, trying to still my heart.

"Feel free to stay as long as you like." He says in a low voice.

I nod again, too afraid to speak in case my voice trembles.

Kwan leaves the room, and I sink back down onto the couch.

That wasn't the first time I'd thought of suicide. I thought of killing myself every single day since I graduated high school.

And most of the time it was just thinking about it. But sometimes I actually planned it out in my head.

The way I would do it, when I would do it, where I would do it, what I would write as a suicide note...

Not that my parents deserved something as important as a suicide note.

But only twice have I ever put my plans into action.

The first time, I was caught.

The second time...I was the one who stopped it.

I was slitting my wrists.

And I looked down at my wrists and realized I didn't want to die this way.

So I dialed 911 and an ambulance showed up about ten minutes later.

I give a sigh as I remember my mother crying about me almost ending my life.

I lie down on Kwan's couch and spread the blankets out over my body.

I lay my head down on the pillow and squeeze my eyes closed.

Tears form under my closed lids and I want to curse myself for being sad again.

*Then*

"Attention everyone." Mr. Lancer called out.

Sam and I turned our gaze in the direction of his voice.

He was standing up on stage but our principal was nowhere in sight.

'Its not time for the ceremony then.' I thought to myself.

He had a strange smile on his face."Graduates, gather round."

Slowly, the graduates -including Sam and I- made our way to the stage.

We all stood around the stage like fans at a rock concert.

Mr. Lancer closed his eyes for a millisecond, then opened them again.

"I have taught at this school for nearly fifteen years. And never-" He put emphasis on the word never. "have I ever had a graduating class so amazing."

I was pretty sure that he said this same speech every year, but it still made the hair on my arms stand up.

He grinned around at all of us, and brought the microphone to his lips again.

"Do any of you remember your first assignment from me?" He questioned.

Most of the kids at the front of the line shook their heads but Tucker shot his hand up in the air.

"Mr. Foley?" Lancer asked, still grinning.

I couldn't hear what Tucker said but it must have been correct because Lancer beamed and nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! For those of you who didn't hear, Mr. Foley said that the first assignment I gave you guys was to write predictions for graduation day. And right now, I'd like to read yours out to you today."

I glanced at Sam and gave her a half smile, trying to remember what I'd written in my freshman year.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who's read or reviewed this story. Means a lot to me. :) Please let me know what you think of this next installment in the reviews section. Enjoy! **

* * *

*Now*

I roll over and squint my eyes against the bright sunlight that's coming in through the curtains.

If Kwan makes as much as I think he does, he could at least afford some decent curtains.

With a groan, I roll away from the window and face the back of the couch again.

But it's no use. Now that I've seen sunlight, I'll never be able to get back to sleep.

I check my cell phone.

It's eleven forty five. Considering that I have a pounding headache from being hung over, eleven forty five isn't too late.

It isn't the latest I've slept after a drunken night.

On my cell phone, it also tells me that I've missed four calls, six text messages and two voicemails.

I look at the text messages first.

My fathers number: Where are you?

Another one from my father: come home.

My mom: Danny, your fathers sorry. Please come home. We love you so much.

My father: Your mother is very worried about you. Come home NOW.

One from Jazz: Are we still on for lunch tomorrow? -That was sent at nine thirty last night.

I respond to her text. "Yes. How about we meet at 12:30 instead of 12:00?" My text asks her.

I wait for the message to say sent before I move onto reading the other text message I have.

It's one from Sam.

I blink and hesitantly press the read option.

She says, "Danny. I'm so sorry about everything. I'm on Christmas break and I'm home again. Please don't try and tell me

that you're not home, I've already seen you around town."

I swallow. How have I not seen her yet? Slowly, I continue reading.

"I really miss you, Danny. I'd like it if I could come by your house and see you sometime this week. You don't have to talk a lot, I've just got some things I'd like to tell you." Her text reads. "Would that be ok?"

I gently squeeze the reply button and type two letters: "O..k."

* * *

*Then*

"And Dash Baxter, who is attending Utah University in the fall, wrote: 'On graduation day, I will have changed the world, or at least kissed a girl." Mr. Lancer read.

Dash's face was red, and all of our classmates were laughing.

It was no secret that Dash Baxter was the biggest player our school had ever known.

So the fact that he once used to be insecure about girls was absolutely hysterical.

Dash was embarrassed but he was laughing about it so it was cool.

Just last week, he had shoved my head down a toilet "for old times sake".

It wasn't that bad, considering I'd already endured three years of it from him.

Mr. Lancer dug around inside his bucket and extracted another sheet of paper.

"Paulina Sanchez, who is interning at Macy's over the summer, wrote: On graduation day, I will have lost my vir-" Mr. Lancer stopped reading and his face turned red.

Every graduating senior laughed at the start of Paulina's card.

"I um," Mr. Lancer stammered, then shook his head. "By graduation day, I will have lost something I was supposed to treasure. And hopefully it will be to a really hot...guy." Lancer looked sick.

Paulina rolled her eyes and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

A lot of us were still chuckling as he pulled out the next piece of paper.

"Star Hanson, who is taking a year off after high school, wrote: I will re-discover myself." Lancer seemed pleased with her answer, but then got a disgusted look on his face when he continued reading.

On the day we had written these predictions, Star had put a picture of herself wearing a bikini in with her prediction.

But before she sealed her envelope shut, she decided she'd attach a photo of Dash's head where hers should've been.

Copies of that picture made the rounds at school, before Dash put a stop to it by kicking any guys butt that had a hold of the picture.

Of course I'm sure he's the only one who didn't realize that the original is in Star's envelope.

Lancer looked sickened.

"What is the matter with you children?"

Everyone on the lawn snickered.


	5. Chapter 5

*Now*

I get up from Kwan's couch and fold the blankets that I slept under.

I neatly stack them on top of the pillow and dig a folded up index card out of my back pocket.

I scribble a thank you note to Kwan and leave it on top of the folded blankets.

After I look around, I decide to go ahead and see what his room looks like.

Who knows if I'm going to be here again?

Slowly, I make my way down the hall and peek into a room.

The door is slightly ajar.

I gently push it all the way open.

Inside is a huge bed with a gigantic window behind it.

Against one wall is a small media center with a television set perched on top.

His room isn't actually all that bad. It's kind of nice.

I don't want to risk Kwan finding me here, so I back out of his room and head for the front door.

I exit his house and his doorman waves at me.

In my former life, I might have waved back...but then again, in my former life: I never would have been here.

I turn my attention from Kwan's doorman and head down the street.

It's now almost noon. I listen to the new voicemail messages on my phone as I walk to the place that Jazz and I had agreed upon meeting at.

The first message is from my father. He starts blathering on about how upset he is with my actions and how I'd better come home, NOW, and blah blah blah.

I delete his message before he even finishes talking.

I listen to the other message and realize that it's Tucker..I haven't spoken to him since summer.

He left right after graduation day.

I end his message but don't delete it. I'll probably have to listen to it again. I'm so shocked that he called, I can't understand what he's saying.

I regret not bringing a thicker jacket. It's freezing out.

I slide my phone back into my back pocket and jam my hands into the front pockets of my very thin hoodie.

I continue walking toward the place Jazz and I agreed to have lunch.

When I get there, I take a table in the back and wait for her to get here.

I play a game on my phone, but I don't have to wait long.

Within ten minutes of my arrival, Jazz is here.

She looks around the room, searching for me.

She doesn't recognize me..

I clear my throat and sit up straighter.

She gives me a curious look.

I give her a wave.

Slowly, she starts toward my table but looks around.

"Hey..." She says tentatively.

"Hi, Jazz." I say and stand.

She doesn't do anything at first, then pulls me into a hug.

I'm shocked at first. It's been so long since I've had a hug...

Awkwardly, I pat her back.

She pulls away and stares at me. "You look so different. When you said you changed...I didn't know you meant this much."

I shrug and sit back down.

She sits across from me.

I don't speak. I stare down at the table.

"Danny, I'm so sorry for everything that's happened to you. If I lived closer, I'd make sure to see you more often."

I nod. "I know."

She sighs. "When you called to tell me what had happened between you and dad...at first, I didn't believe you. But, I realized you wouldn't lie about something so important. Right?" She looks up, almost hopeful.

At this point, anything is better than the truth.

I shake my head. "No, Jazz. I wouldn't lie about this."

She sighs. "I figured."

I crack my knuckles. "So, why'd you want to meet today?"

"Um, we'll get to that in a second. First, I have a few questions." She says.

A waitress comes up to our table. "Hiya, are you two ready to order?"

Jazz gives her a smile. "Two Coca-Cola's please. We're going to need a few minutes to decide our meal."

The waitress nods and scribbles something down onto a pad of paper.

She walks away and Jazz turns back to me. "Figure out what you're going to eat, we'll talk after."

I decide on a nice thick steak - that line about being a vegetarian is something I feed my parents because it makes my father mad, and makes my mother feel like she's failing as a mom.

Jazz orders a salad.

She waits until the waitress walks away to ask it.

She stretches her hand across the table and touches my arm.

"Are you still cutting?"

I jerk my arm from her hand and look around.

There's no one around that I recognize.

I take a deep breath. "Jazz, please don't say stuff like that so loudly. People might hear you."

She sighs softly. "I'll take that as a yes."

I look down at the table.

"Danny, we've got to get you some help." She suggests.

"Mom and dad don't care." I reply.

"That's not true." She says.

I give her a stare.

"I'm sorry. You're right, I'm not you in this situation. If you say they don't care, they don't." She says with a shrug. "But somehow or another, we've got to get you some help."

"I don't need help." I say.

She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her coke.

I wait for her to respond.

She sighs. "You're not invincible buddy. You have to take care of yourself before you can take care of anyone else."

"Does it look like I'm even attempting to take care of anyone else?" I demand, crossing my arms.

"Danny, you know that's not what I meant..." She says.

"Really? Then what did you mean?" I question.

"Please don't try to fight with me." She says, while her eyes silently plead with me to let it go.

I sigh and look away from her. "Fine. Why'd you ask me to meet you here?"

"Because I wanted to see you again." She takes another sip of her drink.

I wait but she doesn't say anything.

"And?" I prompt.

She sighs. "And I wanted to tell you that I found a therapist who might be able to help you."

I stare out the window, turning this information over in my mind.

Therapy...healing...forgiveness. I stop there and tense up.

"Nope, sorry. No can do." I reply, looking down at my black fingernail polish.

I don't want to heal if it means learning to forgive my father.

I want no part in that.

"Danny, will you just give her a chance? I've set you up with an appointment on the 17th." She says, giving me a hopeful look. "Will you go?"

The seventeenth is four days from today...

I let out my breath loudly so she knows I'm annoyed.

"Please?" She asks.

I groan. "Fine."

"Really?" She perks up.

"Do you want me to change my mind?" I question, my eyes narrow.

To her, I must look harsh - dark.

But at this point I don't care.

She outwardly winces. "Sorry. Of course I don't want you to change your mind."

I look at her, really look at her.

And the way her eyes crinkle up when she winces, at the way her mouth is shaped in a concerned frown...my sister actually cares what happens to me.

Go figure.

I let out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok." She responds.

It isn't, but I nod.

The waitress brings our food and we dig in.

I'm chowing down when I catch her staring at me.

"What?" I question, self consciously wiping at my face.

She shakes her head and looks down at her plate again. "Nothing."

I continue eating, knowing that her eyes are on me but I don't catch her again.

After we're finished, she pays for our meals and we stand up to leave.

"We should get together more often." I tell her as I shrug my coat on.

"I agree. But the day isn't over yet."

I raise an eyebrow. "What else do you have planned?"

She smiles. "Lots, now come on."

I follow her out of the restaurant and she leads me to her car.

"Where's your car?" She asks, looking around.

"I walked here." I say, avoiding her question.

"Why?" She asks and opens her car door.

I shrug and walk around to the passenger side.

I open up the door just as she's climbing into her seat.

She slams her door shut at the same time I do.

I return her smile when she gives me one.

"So why'd you walk here?" She asks, turning the key in the engine.

I swallow, mulling my words over in my mind. "Cause."

"That's not even an answer!" She replies, fake exasperated.

We used to have this same argument back when we were in high school.

Back when we were innocent. When I thought nothing could change me...

"You know that's not an answer." She says, interrupting my thoughts.

I shake my head. "It's the only one you're getting right now."

She raises an eyebrow as she turns the key and the car roars to life.

A blast of heat hits me from the vents on the dashboard.

I lean back against the fake leather seats, soaking up as much of the warmth as I can.

"Well?" She asks again.

I look away from her and sigh. "I wrecked my car."

"What?" She asks, genuine concern in her voice.

I swallow and lightly tap my fingers against the window.

"Did you...do it on purpose?" She questions, her voice soft.

"Yeah, sure." I roll my eyes even though she can't see me.

"I'm just saying, you've been really depressed. And after last month I just-"

I turn to her. "Jazz, if I was going to kill myself, there are a million other ways I would do it. I wouldn't destroy a car just to kill myself."

She swallows, tears in her eyes. "I'm scared for you, Danny."

I close my eyes and look away from her.

"Don't be." I whisper.

"You're my brother, Danny. I love you and I don't want anything to happen to you." She says.

I squeeze my eyes shut. She can't do this to me.

She can't make me feel.

"Say something please."

I swallow and turn my face toward her, eyes open.

"What do you want me to say?"

She shakes her head slightly. "Just tell me how you're feeling."

"About what?" I cross my arms.

"About everything." She responds in a whisper.

If I were still innocent, I would open up to her. I would tell her that I've been cutting like crazy. I would tell her about how I think about death constantly.

How I crave to leave this world and hope that my parents lie awake at night, tortured over the things they did to me.

...but I'm not innocent any longer. I'm jaded and I'm cold. Nothing she says can get me to be honest. Not anymore.

"Just please say something." Jazz whispers.

"I'm fine." I say, my voice flat again.

Once again, I've succeeded in playing my emotions close to the vest.

In being the rock I've come accustomed to being.

She sighs and uses one hand to put the car in reverse while using the other hand to buckle her seatbelt.

I put my seatbelt on and stare out the window again as she drives us away from the restaurant.

We don't talk as she drives away.

I get lost in my thoughts, remembering the day that everything changed...

*Then*

"Daniel Fenton wrote, in his freshman year, 'By the time I graduate high school, I will have gone to space camp and kissed Sam Manson'." Mr. Lancer smiled.

I felt the blush creep across my face.

Sam nudged me. "That's so adorable. I didn't know you wanted me even back then."

I turned to her, smiling. "I always wanted you, Sam."

She smiled. "Good to know. Now I have something I can use against you."

I half-chuckled, half-groaned knowing that she would use it.

Mr. Lancer pulled out another slip of paper. "Tucker Foley wrote, in his freshman year, 'On graduation day, I will have made out with Jazz Fenton."

I turned to look at him, knowing that my mouth was gaping open. "What?"

Tucker cackled and walked across the lawn toward me.

He waited until he was close enough to me to start talking. "When I was doing that assignment, I couldn't think of what to say. I asked you and you said, 'I don't know say kiss some hot girl.' So I put down your sister as a joke. I totally forgot about it until now. You have to admit, she is hot though."

I gave a small chuckle at his joke and shoved him for what he said about my sister. "Shut up."

Mr. Lancer pulled out the next piece of paper, Lester Franklin.

"He wrote, 'By graduation day, I will have done something truly heroic. Like standing up to Dash." Mr. Lancer gave him a smile. "That's a good one."

Lester pumped his fist in the air.

Over the last three years, he'd really grown. He was no longer chubby, he'd actually filled out a bit. His acne had gotten better, he'd gone through voice change and he started playing soccer.

He wasn't a jerk like Dash was though, the sport didn't change him.

And come to think of it, I think he actually did stand up to Dash recently.

I smiled. That was nice that his prediction came true.


	6. Chapter 6

*Now*

The car comes to a stop.

I pull myself out of my memories and look around.

"What are we doing here?" I ask.

We're in the parking lot of a thrift store.

"Do you remember when we were kids, and would play dress up in the thrift store? I'd try on all the dresses and you'd try on everything you could find." She smiles.

"Yes." I reply.

She laughs lightly. "And do you remember when you found that ridiculously oversized fedora and you wanted to get it so badly that mom was forced to buy it for you?"

I nod. "I remember. So?"

She stares at me for a second, then pulls out of the parking lot.

"What was that all about?" I question, glancing back at the nearly empty parking lot.

She shakes her head. "Just checking to see if you still remembered what innocence was like."

I scowl at her. "Jazz my innocence was ripped away from me. Excuse me if I quit believing in fairy dust."

She sighs. "You're so jaded and cynical."

I bite my lip. I would apologize, but I'm not sorry.

I look away from her, out the window.

The car slows to a stop.

I look outside. "Where are we?"

"Look out my window." She says.

I do and see that we're in the parking lot of a chuck-e-cheese's.

I slowly inhale. "What are we doing here?"

"Come on, get out." Jazz unbuckled her seat belt and turns the car off.

"Jazz-" She jumps out of the car and slams her door shut.

I sigh and get out of the car, slamming my door shut a little harder than necessary.

"Come on, race you!" She laughs and starts running for the door.

I stare after her. What is she doing?

Slowly, I follow after her, walking at a normal place.

I walk inside and discover that she's waiting for me in the foyer.

"I called in a favor. The place is ours for the day." She grins.

I blink. What the hell are we supposed to do in a children's play area?

"Come on, let's go!" She starts running again and I soon lose sight of her.

I sigh, slightly annoyed, and start walking after her.

What on earth has she brought me here for?

*Then*

I kissed Sam's hand. "I can't believe we made it to this day. Together."

Sam lowered her voice. "I can't believe neither one of us are injured after last night."

She was referring to the ghost battle we had last night. It was a bad one. Skulker and Vlad had teamed up, using their skill and experience against me.

I really wasn't a match for the both of them. Sam managed to get Skulker in the Fenton Thermos, but Vlad knocked her out right after it.

I'm pretty sure that that's the only reason I won that fight.

When I saw him hit Sam from behind, something snapped inside of me. I was no longer a weaker fighter. I became instantly stronger than him.

My anger fueled me and it took me less than two seconds to defeat him.

I had to immediately suck him into the Fenton Thermos though. I knew if I didn't, I would begin kicking his ass. Because he put his hands on my girlfriend. That isn't acceptable.

I squeezed Sam's hand. "I know, me too."

"Thanks for letting me stay over last night." She said, standing up on tip toe, her lips near my ear.

"No problem. I think my parents might have heard us though." I said.

She shrugged. "No problem. We'll be sharing an apartment soon enough. Then we can make all the noise we want."

She took my earlobe in between her teeth and bit gently.

I chuckled. "If you want us to graduate, you might want to stop. Before I grab you and find somewhere private for us."

She laughed and pulled away. "Fine. But you're kissing me later. Got it?"

I grinned. "So I don't have a choice anymore?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Sorry."

"So I'm like your prisoner?" I asked.

"If that's what you want to be." She grinned.

"That's fine. I've come to love my warden." I said.

She chuckled. "Ok. That works."

"Sam Manson wrote, in her freshman year." Mr. Lancer began reading. "By graduation day, I will have shown Danny that we're meant to be together. And taught him and Tucker that Ultra-Recyclo-Vegetarians are awesome."

"Nice prediction." I told her. "And I thought I was cheesy in mine. Meant to be together? What are you, a fortune teller?"

She shoved me, a small smile on her face. "You can forget about kissing me later."

"Aw, but it's so much fun." I teased.

She chuckled and shook her head.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This update is a little short. :/ sorry. Please let me know what you think in the reviews! **

* * *

*Now*

"Jazz?" I call out, trying to find her.

She'd ran off, leaving me standing in the foyer.

I'd already checked out two other rooms. One was a gigantic ball pit that I knew for a fact I wasn't getting into.

The second was a sort of jungle gym with ten different slides. It looked like something I would have enjoyed when I was younger. Innocent.

Suddenly, Jazz jumps in front of me, startling me. "Boo!"

I stumble backwards, then glare at her. I don't like to be scared.

"Sorry." She says with a chuckle.

I continue to glare for a second before I ask my question. "What are we doing here?"

"What does it look like we're doing here? We're here to play!" She leans down and takes her shoes off. "Come on!"

I watch her run to the trampoline style floor.

"Jazz-"

"Come on!" She yells, bouncing up and down, grinning.

I walk over to her and stand in front of the trampoline, my arms crossed.

"You have to take your shoes off." She says.

I stare at her. How is she doing this? This is so childish and stupid.

She stops jumping. "Come on, Danny, it's impossible to frown on a trampoline."

I have nothing to say anymore. I don't want to destroy her innocence.

"Jazz, I don't want to." I say.

"Please, little brother? For me?" She asks.

I bite my lip. I can't.

"No." I say.

She stares at me for a few minutes, breathing heavily from all the jumping. "Danny, I'm worried about you."

I inhale slowly. "Don't be. I'm fine."

She sighs and jumps off the trampoline. "Please, Danny."

"Please what?" I ask.

"Just...relax. Just for today. Relax and let yourself enjoy the day." She says to me.

Her words mean nothing to me.

I turn around and walk the opposite way, leaving her standing in front of the trampoline.

*Then*

My name was called and I walked across the stage to receive my diploma. Sam came after me, so I was happy that I was going to get the chance to watch her cross the stage and receive her diploma. She had told me that today was about her parents, to them. I was going to make sure that she knew today was about her.

I waited for what seemed like a very long time before Sam's name was called.

I stood up from my seat and cupped my hands around my mouth. "I love you, Samantha!"

Her eyes opened widely and she faltered in her walk across the stage.

When she saw it was me who was hollering her name, her face lit up.

Nobody quite knew what to do. The principal stared in my general direction, and Sam slowly started walking across the stage again, a huge grin on her face.

"Congratulations!" I hollered.

She chuckled and shook her head, obviously amused.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to look.

Mr. Lancer was on the other end of that arm. He looked kind of ticked.

"Settle down, Mr. Fenton. You're disrupting the ceremony." He said.

I grinned. "Or what? More after school detention?"

Surprisingly, he smiled. So I sat down.

Sam collected her diploma and walked to her seat. She had to pass by me to get to her seat.

"Thank you." She mouthed.

I winked and she smiled.

We both knew it. There wasn't anything I wouldn't do for that girl.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry guys, this one's kind of short too. :-/ but the next few updates should be longer. I hope. *crosses fingers* Anyway, thanks for all the reviews you guys are leaving. If you're enjoying this and sticking with it as I write, thanks! :) Your reviews mean a lot to me. If you enjoy this update, let me know your thoughts in the reviews. Thanks! **

* * *

*Now*

"Danny, wait!" Jazz calls after me.

I push open the door and stalk outside.

The cold air hits me full force. It helps clear my mind and make me think straighter.

"Danny, please. Don't go." My sister calls out to me.

I turn around. "What do you want me to say, Jazz? I'm not your scared little brother anymore. I don't need you to take me out to Chuck-E-Cheese's to cheer me up, all right?"

"That's not what I was doing." Jazz crosses her arms tightly, attempting to shield her body from the cold wind.

"Then what are we doing here?" I demand.

"I was just trying to take your mind off of everything. I was trying to get you to relax, ok? Danny, I-I'm so scared for you. I'm afraid you're going to do something stupid." Tears spill down her cheeks and I look away.

I hate tears. Someone else's, my family's, my ex-girlfriends, my own…

"Danny...I don't want to have to attend your funeral." She sniffles. "I can't do that."

I take a deep breath. I can't make a promise that I know I won't be able to keep. I can't tell her that I won't kill myself.

"Danny, please." A sob escapes her and I squeeze my eyes closed.

"I can't do this." I say.

As soon as those words are out of my mouth, I start running. As fast and as hard as I can.

Jazz calls out to me but I keep running away.

I'm panting and my chest is hurting. I know I should stop running. Slow down.

But I can't. It hurts too badly to stop at this point.

So I keep running, trying to forget the memories that haunt me.

*Then*

"Congratulations, baby!" My mom said as she pulled me in a hug.

"I'm so proud of you." Jazz said, grinning.

I rubbed my mom's back.

"I love you." She whispered in my ear.

"I love you too." I said.

"Danny!" A voice squealed from behind me.

I let go of my mom and turned around.

Sam was standing behind me, grinning.

I scooped her up in my arms and twirled her around. "Congratulations, beautiful!"

"Thank you! Congratulations to you too!" She said.

I kissed her neck and set her back down on the ground, even though I wanted to keep kissing her.

"Congratulations, Samantha." My mom said, giving her a smile and a hug.

"Thank you." Sam replied, beaming.

I took Sam's hand and looked at my parents. "I'm taking Sam out for dinner tonight so don't wait up."

My father grinned. "Ok. You kids have fun."

I swung Sam's hand back and forth gently.

"Let me get a picture of you two." Jazz said, pulling out her camera.

I grinned and pulled Sam closer against me.

"Smile, guys!" Jazz beamed and pressed the button on her camera.

I leaned closer to Sam and kissed her cheek as the flash went off.

Jazz reviewed the picture. "That's so cute!"

I grinned and kissed Sam's cheek again.

"I love you." She told me.

I felt a warm feeling spread inside of me. "I love you too, Sam."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thanks for reading guys! Enjoy this next chapter and let me know what you think of it in the reviews! **

* * *

*Now*

I stop running in the middle of the sidewalk. That memory hit me out of the blue.

I squeeze my eyes closed and will myself not to cry.

This isn't the place.

My breaths are ragged, I'm almost panting.

I open my eyes and see black spots in my vision. I know from past experience that I'm about to faint.

I stagger behind a building to my left.

After I fall on top of a pile of garbage, I'm out like a light.

I open my eyes. The sky above me is dark, almost like the sun's setting.

My phone's ringing.

Without even thinking about it, I answer the call.

It's probably my dad, gearing up to yell at me.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Oh. I didn't expect you to answer.." It's Sam's voice on the other end of the line.

"Oh. Hey..." I reply, sitting up. "What are you doing?"

"I was wondering how you were...and if you might want to grab something to eat?"

I check my watch. It's seven thirty.

We would have enough time, I'm just not ready yet.

"Not tonight." I say.

"Oh. Right, of course. I'm sorry, it's so last minute." She says.

"It's fine." I tell her.

"Is it still ok if I come by sometime later this week?" She asks.

I swallow and close my eyes.

Do I want to see her again?

"Cause if it isn't, that's ok..."

It's still so hard to see old friends. Hard to see her…

"Danny?" She asks.

"I'm here." I respond.

I take a deep breath. "Yeah, that'd be fine. Just…text me before you come over."

"Ok. I will." She says.

I roll up my sleeves and look at my arms. I'm scarred and scary looking.

I don't know if I want Sam to see me like this.

"Well, I'll let you go." She says to me.

I swallow and nod even though she can't see me. "Ok. I'll see you later this week."

"Ok. See you then." She says and we hang up our phones.

I lay back down on the garbage. Sadly, this is more comfortable to me than my own house is.

My eyes close and soon I'm fast asleep again.

* * *

*Then*

"I can't wait to go off to New York with you." I grinned. "You and I, sharing an apartment? You'll be lucky to make it to your internship on time."

She chuckled and gave me a shove.

We were sitting outside the school on the front lawn.

The principal allowed the graduates to throw their graduation party inside the school.

Sam and I weren't going to go to the party but we finished dinner and started walking.

Somehow we ended up there.

"That's not even funny." Sam said.

"You know you love me." I replied.

"Maybe I'm only with you for the Phantom half." She teased.

I pretended to be hurt. "I seriously can't believe you just said that. Here I thought you loved me."

"Sorry." She said, grinning. "Phantom is so much hotter than Fenton."

I took her chin in my hand and gently pulled her closer to me. "Well, to get Phantom, you have to deal with Fenton."

She shrugged. "I can deal."

I chuckled and kissed her lips.

She pulled away, grinning.

"What?" I asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing. I just love you so much."

I smiled. "I love you too, my little dork."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm a dork? Who made their girlfriend stand in line for over an hour while he waited to get the new video game?"

My mouth dropped open. "Sweetheart, Call of Duty is not just a video game."

She grinned. "You still want to say you're not a dork?"

I chuckled. "Fine."

"So does this mean that you're my dork too?" She asked, her eyes wide with fake innocence.

I laughed. "Fine. I'm your dork too."

I kissed her and she slid her arms around my neck.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: This update is a bit longer than the last few. The angst is pretty bad in the next update, so be warned. xD Please let me know what you think of this update in the reviews. Thanks for reading, and as always: Enjoy! **

* * *

*Now*

Some cold liquid hits me in the face.

I spring awake. "What's going on?"

A homeless man is standing next to me, an empty bottle of beer in his hand.

He turns to a younger male who also apparently happens to be homeless.

"See, son? I told you he ain't dead." The older homeless guy turns back to me, a near toothless smile on his face.

I sit upright. "I'm sorry. Is this your spot?"

He waves his hand. "I sleep wherever, boy. Don't worry about me."

Regardless, I stand up.

I pat my pockets, looking for my wallet.

The younger male glares at me. "We didn't try to rob you if that's what you're thinking."

I stare at him and slowly pull out my wallet.

From it, I extract two twenty dollar bills.

I hold them out to the older man. "Here. It's not much, but it's something."

The homeless man looks at me like I've just handed him a winning lottery ticket.

"Thank you, son. Thank you so much." He smiles at me again, and the younger male looks embarrassed.

"I have to get going, ok? It was nice to meet you. Thanks for waking me up." I tell the older man.

He nods. "Anytime, anytime. If you ever want to come back and sleep here, this spot is yours."

I give him a small smile. "I might."

The younger male holds out his hand for me to shake. "Thank you. Most people who look like you do aren't very kind to my father."

I shake his hand. "Don't worry about it. Kindness should be the normalcy."

He nods and I turn around and walked the other way.

I know that my parents are going to be furious with me when I get back, so I take the long way home.

I stop and buy myself a coffee in hopes that it'll jumpstart my brain by the time I get home.

I check my cell phone as I continue walking and drinking my coffee.

Ten missed calls this morning. And it's only nine.

One is from Tucker, one's from an unknown number, four are from Jazz, one is from my mom and three are from my dad.

I sigh heavily and check how many voicemails.

Eight.

I dial my voicemail and begin listening to them all. The first one is from my mom. She's crying and begging me to come home.

This was sent about six last night. Tucker's message is next. He says something about being in town and maybe we could meet up or something.

The next one is my dad screaming about how 'it's not right for me to take off like that and I'm tearing this family apart' and on and on and on he goes.

I delete his next message before listening to it.

The next message is Kwan. He's asking me if I'm all right and if I needed anything else to just let him know.

I make a mental note to call and thank him for his hospitality.

The final three messages are from Jazz. It sounds like she' crying hysterically as she's talking.

She's begging me to come back. Talking about how sorry she is for springing this on me. About how she's just so worried about me.

I sigh. I'll have to call her back too.

But I don't have time for that right now. I'm standing outside my house, which is no longer a home to me.

I take a deep breath and walk up the few short steps.

Here we go...

* * *

*Then*

Sam and I were sitting outside her house.

I was dropping her off at the end of the night.

Almost midnight.

I looked at my watch. "Eight more minutes and our graduation day is officially over."

"Really?" Sam's eyebrows went up on her forehead. "It feels like it's barely ten."

I smiled. "I know."

I took her hand. "Time seems to fly by when I'm with you."

She smiled back. "Likewise, dork."

I chuckled. "You should probably go inside before your parents yell at you."

She sighed. "They're always yelling at me."

I gently squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry. You don't deserve it."

She looked up, a small smile on her face. "Thanks. At least I'll be out of there soon."

I nodded. "Exactly. Neither one of our parents can do anything to us when we're in New York."

She smiled. "I know. I'm really excited about living together."

Her smile became worried and the crease appeared between her eyebrows again. "Are you sure we're ready for this?"

"Sam, I'm ready to fly to the moon and bring a piece of it back to you. Moving in together is going to be nothing." I smiled. "Second nature. Besides, you've practically been living at my house for the past year."

She smiled and her cheeks colored slightly. "I'm sorry. It's just…when it gets really bad at home, you help me forget."

I squeezed her hand again. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't be."

My watch beeped.

"It's midnight. Make a wish." I said, smiling.

She grinned and closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, her smile had faded and her eyes were brimming with tears.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"My parents are going to get a divorce." She whispered.

I pulled her into my arms and rubbed her back. "What makes you say that?"

She shook her head. "I can feel it. The only reason they've stayed together is because of me. They're going to get a divorce as soon as I move out."

I hugged her. "Baby, it's ok. I'm so sorry."

She sniffled and rested her cheek on my shoulder. "I love you."

I rubbed her back. "I love you too."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey readers! As a warning, this chapter is deliciously angsty. xD Danny's been REALLY OOC these past few chapters, hasn't he? Well hang on. He's about to get SOOOO much worse. Anyway, thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think of this chapter in the reviews. As always, enjoy! **

* * *

*Now*

I push open the front door and walk inside, holding my coffee.

I'm really hoping that my parents don't hear me, but with my combat boots on, it's nearly impossible not to.

I kick the door closed.

"Danny?" My father calls.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself.

After setting my coffee on the ground beside me, I kick my shoes off and leave them by the front door.

"Danny, is that you?" My father calls again.

His voice sounds closer now. He's getting up to look for me.

I ignore his calls and pick my coffee up again.

I hear his footsteps. I take a long drink from my coffee and walk into the kitchen.

"Where have you been?" My father demands from the other entrance to the kitchen.

I shrug.

He stalks across the room toward me, stopping a few feet from me. "I asked you a question. I expect an answer."

"You don't deserve one." I snap.

"I'm so sick of your shit, Danny." He says.

"Fine. Then kick me out." I say.

"You know where the door is! If you want to leave, then leave!" He yells.

I throw my coffee cup on the ground and step closer to him, getting right in his face.

"Make me." I hiss.

His eyes dart back and forth, studying me. "You're going to stop what you're doing. You're going to stop it right now. Your actions are tearing this family apart."

"My actions?" I demand, feeling the anger rise in my chest.

How dare he say my actions are at fault for the turmoil in our home?

After everything he's done to me. After everything he's put me through?

The anger builds inside of my chest and with a last shred of sanity, I aim my fist at the drywall instead of his fist.

The wall will probably be permanetely marked with the shape of my fist.

"Screw you, dad." I say, turning my face back toward him. "And you're lucky that wasn't your face."

I start for the door.

"Where are you going?" He demands.

"The hell away from you." I growl, snatching my shoes up from beside the door.

"Would at least wait a minute? See your mother first. She was up all night for god's sake."

I flip him my finger as I stalk out the door.

* * *

*Then*

"I have to go inside." Sam said.

We were sitting in my car at the edge of her driveway, with all the lights turned off.

She had her back against the passenger door and her legs stretched out across my lap.

Her sandals had been abandoned when I offered her a foot massage.

"I know." I responded, gently massaging her left foot.

"They'll come out and my dad will chase you again." She said, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the window.

"I know." I replied.

Sam opened her eyes and sat up.

She gave me a knowing grin and tilted her head to one side. "You'll run away screaming again."

"Hey. That's not true, I was not screaming." I said.

She laughed. "Ok maybe not the screaming part. But the running away part? Totally true."

I gave her a glare but after a few minutes of looking at her, I grinned.

It's completely obvious. I can *not* stay mad at this girl. I love her too much.

She took my hand. "I really do have to go inside though."

"Five more minutes of kissing?" I begged.

"Danny, it's almost twelve thirty." She responded.

I bit the inside of my lip. "Ok…so two more minutes?"

She snickered. "No. How about, I go inside before you get us both in trouble? Aren't your parents expecting you back soon anyway?"

I shook my head. "No. I said don't wait up. They won't call until it hits one am."

"Huh." She looked down at her phone, then turned the screen toward me.

It read 'ten missed calls'.

I gave her a questioning look.

"Must be nice." She responded then gave another sigh.

She took her legs off my lap and leaned down to put her shoes back on. "I really have to go."

"Please don't." I whispered.

She looked up, worry on her face. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "I'm sorry. It's probably nothing."

She leaned back in her seat. "What's nothing?"

"I don't know. I just…I think something really bad is going to happen soon." I gave a small shudder. "I don't know. It just feels like…like things are about to get bad again."

Sam studied me. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not sure exactly. Maybe a premonition? I'm not sure." I said.

She squinted her eyes. "Have you still been seeing your therapist?"

I nodded. "Yes. Every Friday after school."

"And your parents still don't know?"

I shook my head. "No. I figured it best if they didn't know I'm seeing a psychiatrist for possible mental issues."

She smiled a soft smile. "You do not have mental issues."

I shrugged. "Toe-mate-oh, toe-motto."

She shook her head, still smiling. "What did he say when you told him you were graduating?"

"He told me he was excited for me. He wanted to know if I still wanted to see him over the summer." I told her. "I told him I was up for it but I didn't know if I had plans over the summer."

She nodded. "Ok. That's good. I think you should keep seeing him. At least until the nightmares stop."

I nodded. "I will."

Sam's phone rang again.

She turned the screen over and sighed. "I have to go inside. Now."

"I love you." I told her.

She sighed again and looked at me. "I love you too."

Her eyes were sad. She didn't want to go inside but she didn't have a choice.

Her parents had become so controlling she didn't know how to get away from them. New York was her only escape out.

If I stayed in Amity Park, I'm pretty sure she would too. That's why I have to go with her. To make sure that she never lets them get inside her head again.

"Don't forget, Sam Manson. You're beautiful, intelligent, creative and funny. If they try to tell you otherwise, they're lying." I told her.

She smiled as tears brimmed in her eyes. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." I said.

She got out of my car and started up the driveway.

I waited until she was inside the house before I drove off.

Even though I desperately wanted to run back to her house and rescue her from her belittling and selfish parents.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Ok, this is the last chapter I have written right now. So it might be a little bit before you guys see an update. *hides behind hands* Please don't attack me! I'm writing as fast as I can! *peeks out from behind hands* And um, yeah, enjoy! **

* * *

*Now*

I'm sitting on the edge of a bridge. I have my legs dangling over the side and I'm smoking a cigarette.

It's a long way down from where I'm sitting.

If I jump…there's no way I'll make it.

I take another drag from my cigarette, contemplating the decision.

Do I want to die now?

I take another drag.

If I'm dead, I can't make my parents' life hell.

That's something I've actually come to enjoy.

I know that makes me sound like a sick freak, but hey. What if I am?

I take another drag and close my eyes.

Today was hard. To be honest, it's all hard. But today especially. Today was just…different.

I hate my father for what he's done. And I hate my mother for defending him.

I lay down on the bridge, my eyes closed.

Maybe I should call my sister to let her know that I'm all right.

I slide my phone out of my pocket and check the time. It's almost one in the afternoon.

She might be busy at college, or she could be in the middle of a class or…

I realize I'm making excuses for myself. With a grumble, I dial her number and wait while it rings.

"Danny?" Jazz answers, sounding slightly panicked.

"Hey. What's wrong?" I ask.

"I was so worried about you! Where are you?" She asks.

"I'm on a bridge out near the high school." I tell her.

"Oh my god, Danny. Don't move ok? I'll be right there." She says.

I shake my head. "Relax, sis. I'm not going to jump."

She takes a breath. "You aren't?"

"No." I respond, even though the idea had crossed my mind moments before. "I'm not going to jump."

She sighs. "Thank god. Where have you been? I called you several times after you ran off and you didn't answer."

"I'm sorry." I say.

I'm not sorry for running away. I'm sorry for making her worry.

"Will you please tell me what's going on inside your head?" She asks.

"No." I say.

"Danny, please." She begs.

"Jazz, you don't want to know what's going on inside my head." I tell her.

She's silent for a minute. "Why not?"

I swallow. Because you'll put me in a mental hospital, that's why.

But I don't say that.

"I don't want to frighten you." I say instead.

"Oh, please. I can take it, ok?" She says. "Don't worry about what I can handle."

She can't handle this. No one can.

I squeeze my eyes close as I feel the lump in my throat. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said no." I say harsher than I meant to.

She's quiet for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry." I finally say, opening my eyes.

"I know." She replies.

I take a deep breath. "I have to go."

"Why? What are you going to do?" She asks, the worry in her voice again.

"Nothing stupid, ok? I promise." I say.

"Please, Danny. I told you, I can't attend your funeral." She whispers.

"Jazz, I really have to go." I reply.

She takes a deep breath. "Ok. You'll call me later?"

"Sure thing." I say.

We say goodbye and I end the call on my phone.

I feel the itch to jump and know that I should probably get off the bridge. If I don't, there's a strong possibility that I will jump.

Despite my thirst for death, I can't put my sister through that.

My parents? I doubt they'd even care…

I slowly sit up and look over the side of the bridge.

It truly is a long way down. Death will be certain if I jump.

After a few moments of thinking, I stand up from the bridge and slide my phone back into my pocket.

I'm not going to end my life. At least not today.

As I'm walking off the bridge, my cell phone rings again.

I check the screen. Tucker's calling me.

I hesitate for a few seconds but decide on answering.

"Hello?" I ask.

"Hey man. I didn't know if your number was still the same." Tucker's voice says.

I continue walking off the bridge, wishing that I had stopped to grab a thicker jacket.

At this rate, I'll most likely get sick.

"You there?" Tucker asks.

"Yeah, I'm here." I respond. "What's up?"

"Just checking up on you. I got a weird text from your sister last night. She said she was worried about you." Tucker says.

I'm silent for a minute.

"It's been taken care of." I tell him.

Now it's his turn to be silent for a few minutes.

"How's your Christmas vacation going?" He asks.

I shrug even though he can't see me. "Fine."

Just like every other day since I got fired from my job at the Nasty Burger.

"That's good. I heard Sam was in Amity Park for Christmas. Any chance of you guys meeting up?" He asks.

"Tuck, I'm still alive. You've checked on me, you've quieted that voice inside your head that nags at you every six to eight weeks. Feel free to hang up at any time." I snap.

"That's not what I'm doing man!" He says, sounding exasperated.

"Then why are you calling me after all this time?" I demand.

"Dude, I just called you two months ago." he says.

"Well maybe I don't have time for old friends anymore. Maybe I've moved on." I say.

"Fine, maybe you don't. Maybe you have. That's no reason to yell at me." He tells me.

I exhale. "Fine. I'm sorry. I have to go."

I don't wait for him to acknowledge my words. I simply hang up on him.

The sky is a cheerful blue but I can't smile. Not even a little bit.

I am so done.

* * *

*Then*

I pulled my car into the driveway and killed the ignition.

My parents had said they wouldn't wait up for me but I knew that my mom probably was.

I shut the car door with a slam and bounced up the stairs.

That girl of mine had gotten me so excited about our future.

I grinned to myself as I turned the keys in the lock.

Like I figured, my mom was waiting for me.

She was making it look like she wasn't waiting up for me but I knew the truth. She looked ready to nod off to sleep in front of the TV.

I smiled and walked over to her. "Hi mom."

She looked up at me, smiling a sleepy smile. "Hi, baby. How was your night?"

I kissed the top of her head and sat down on the armrest beside her. "It was good. Really, really good."

She smiled and leaned back into the couch. "I am so proud of you, sweetie."

I smiled. I was proud of me too. I did it.

Despite working my senior year, dealing with ghost fighting and trying to find a good space program in one of the colleges in the New York area; I'd made it.

I'd finally graduated.

"How was your night?" I asked her.

She smiled her eyes closed sleepily. "It was nice. Your father and I went out for dinner."

I nodded, still smiling. "I'm glad you too had a good time."

My mom made a soft hmm and rested her head on the back of the couch.

I nudged her gently. "You need to get in bed. You'll wake up tomorrow with a stiff neck."

She smiled and opened her eyes. "Ok."

I stood up and cut the tv off.

She stood and pulled me into a hug. "Congratulations, son. I'm so proud of you."

I smiled and rubbed her back gently for a minute before pulling away and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks." I said.

She beamed. "I'll see you tomorrow, honey."

I walked up the stairs and heard her go into her bedroom.

Once inside my bedroom, I took a look around. There were posters I'd brought back from astronaut camp last summer tacked up all around my room.

Next to some posters for Dumpty Humpty and other bands.

One wall was taken up with photographs. There's some of Sam, some of me and Sam, some of Tucker, some of the three of us. There's a couple of Jazz in there.

I smiled and crawled into bed. I knew I should probably change my clothes or something but I just wanted to go to sleep and remember this day forever.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Here you go, another installment. *hides behind hands* Please! This is the last installment I have written. *peeks out* Anyway, enjoy! And tell me what you think of it in the reviews!**

* * *

*Now*

I'm leaning against the wall on the outside of the Nasty Burger.

I see two boys walking with a girl. The one boy is looking at his electronic device. The other boy is obviously flirting with the girl. The girl seems flattered but cautious.

It's like looking at a spitting image of Sam, Tucker and I three years ago.

I would continue to watch the three friends make their way toward the front door, but it's too painful to watch.

I look away from them and lean my head against the wall.

The boy's laughter fills my ears and I squeeze my eyes closed.

Happiness sounds so foreign to me.

I slide down the wall and sit down on the ground, dropping my head into my hands.

This is not the way I envisioned my Christmas break after graduation. I imagined coming back to Amity Park with Sam.

I imagined helping my parents put up the tree and string Christmas lights…I never imagined this hell.

The feeling of not wanting to go home.

Feeling the itch, I roll up my sleeve and dig around inside my pocket until I get out my razor blade.

It's probably not clean, and the cut could get infected, but I don't care.

Slowly, I drag the blade across my skin and close my eyes.

Tears are threatening to spill out of my eyes, so I press down harder on the blade.

Once the cut has been made, I move to a new spot and cut again.

There's very little areas on my arms that don't have scars or fresh cuts.

There was a time when I feel ashamed for being weak enough to run to the razor, but…not anymore.

Now anything that cures the itch and makes me feel better, I'll do.

Hell, if drugs could do it, I'd take those.

In the beginning, I would tell myself to only allow myself to cut five times during a session. But now? Five times is only the beginning.

I open my eyes and switch the blade to my right hand. I cut again, this time on my left arm.

Most people wouldn't do something like this out in the open. But now? I don't care. If someone sees, or says something or stares…

I couldn't care any less than I already do.

* * *

*Then*

I rolled over in bed and opened my eyes.

It was almost ten thirty.

Smiling to myself, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand beside my table.

There's a missed call and a text from Sam.

The text says, 'Thank you so much for last night. You made me feel so special and important. *smiley face* You really are the greatest boyfriend ever!'

I smiled and texted back, 'No, I'm just doing what every boyfriend needs to do for their girlfriend. Every girl should feel special and important. There's no need to thank me. I do the things that I do because I love you.'

I sent that text, then checked the missed call. It was from Tucker.

I sent him a text. "You called?"

I would lay around in bed for a little while longer, but I wanted to see my girlfriend. I wanted to hold her and tell her again, how much I loved her.

I sat up in bed and ran my fingers through my hair.

As usual, it was sticking up all over the place.

I jumped out of bed and changed my clothes for the day.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. A text back.

This one was from Sam.

Three words, "I love you."

I texted back. "I love you too."

Then I got into my car and drove to her house. I figured she deserved to be treated specially.

But I also figured she deserved a warring. Before I pulled out of my driveway, I sent her a text, "I'm coming to pick you up, beautiful. Be there in 15."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: So, I ended up writing this chapter faster than I thought i would. *cheeky grin* Tell me what you think in the reviews. And enjoy! **

* * *

*Now*

The blood is running down my arms and staining my sleeves.

I would wipe the blood away but more will just pool out. I should bandage the wounds but I'll only cut again.

I squeeze my eyes closed and lean my head against the wall. Why does life have to be so hard?

Tears threaten to overwhelm me and just as I consider cutting again, a voice startles me.

"Danny?" The voice sounds surprised. Shocked.

Slowly, I tuen to look at the person standing a few feet away from me.

Standing there in a blue polo, a thick winter jacket and a pair of black jeans is someone I never thought I'd see again.

Mr. Lancer.

He's staring at me, utterly flabbergasted. "Wh-what are you doing?"

His eyes are wide. Panicked.

I can understand why. I must look like a total weirdo to him.

"Hi, Mr. Lancer." I croak.

His eyes are still wide. "Danny...you...how...why...?"

How does he even recognize me? I barely look like my old self anymore.

"Why what?" I ask.

He stares at me for another second before closing his mouth and taking a small step toward me.

"Are you all right?" He asks, looking concerned.

I swallow. "Peachy."

As much sarcasm as I could muster went into that word.

"You're bleeding." He tells me.

No shit.

"I know." I say, still looking at him.

He bites his lip. "Are you hungry? It's almost time for lunch."

I swallow. I am hungry. Very.

The last time I had food was lunch with Jazz yesterday.

"Yes sir. I am." I say. "I'm going to get something to eat soon."

"Why don't you come back to my house? I already have something cooking." He says.

"No...I-I'll be all right." I say. I desperately want some food and I know that I'm running low on cash.

"Come on, Danny. You can come back to my house, eat and maybe get some rest. You look exhausted." He says.

That sounds mighty tempting. But I shouldn't intrude.

"I'll be all right." I repeat.

He smiles. "I know you will be. But there's nothing wrong with accepting help."

I open and close my mouth. What do I have to lose?

"Ok." I tell him.

"Excellent." He says.

I stand up and pocket my razor blade. Slowly, I make my way toward him, pulling my sleeves down as I do.

My sleeves rub the fresh cuts on their way down. I wince slightly.

"Come on, into my car." He says leading me across the parking lot to his blue car.

"You still drive this thing?" I ask, surprised. The thing looks like it survived the dinosaur age.

"Say what you want but this car has been faithful." He grins and gets into the drivers seat.

Awkwardly, I open the passenger side door and get in.

* * *

*Then*

I pulled up outside of Sam's house and got out of the car.

After I rang the doorbell, I waited outside the door.

Her father answered the door.

"Hello, sir." I said. "I'm looking for your daughter."

He stood there with his arms crossed. "Go home, Fenton."

I raised an eyebrow. "Sir, with all due respect, I'm here to pick up your daughter."

He continued to stand in my way.

"Sam?" I called, trying to peek around him.

He put his hand on my shoulder, effectively stopping me from getting past him. "Listen, she's not home."

I frowned. "Where is she?"

He shrugged. "You know teenagers. They come and go as they please."

I didn't trust him.

"Ok. May I come in to leave a note for Sam?" I asked.

"Like I said, Samantha isn't home. We'll let her know that you stopped by." He stepped back into his house and started to close the door.

As he did, I saw a flash of black hair coming down the stairs.

"Sam?" I called.

She looked up, her shoes in her hands. "Hey Danny."

Sam looked between me and her father who was still attempting to close the door.

"What's going on?" She asked, dropping her shoes on the stairs and walking over to the two of us.

Her father crossed his arms. "Daniel was just leaving."

"Actually, sir, I was coming to pick Sam up." I replied.

He looked absolutely furious.

"Dad, relax. Ok?" Sam walked back over to the stairs and grabbed her shoes and jacket. "Come on, Danny, let's go."

I stepped off her porch and started toward my car.

Sam kissed her dad on the cheek. "I'll be back soon."

She pulled the door shut behind her and walked to the passenger side of the car where I was waiting.

I opened her car door and waited till she got in to close it.

After I shut her door, I walked over to the driver's side and got in.

"What was that all about?" I asked, buckling my seatbelt.

She didn't respond.

I looked at her and saw tears running down her face.

"Whoa, Sam, what's wrong?" I asked, reaching out to touch her.

She closed her eyes as more tears ran down her face. "Just drive, Danny."

So I did. I drove her away from her parents as fast as I could.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Oh my gosh you guys! :) You guys have made my day with all the sweet reviews you keep leaving! You guys rock. This update is a little longer (yay!) so please let me know what you think of it in the reviews. Thanks for reading, and enjoy! **

* * *

*Now*

Mr. Lancer turns the heat up in the car. "It seems like yesterday you were graduating from high school."

He smiles and glances at me. "I meant what I said. I'd never seen a graduating class so amazing."

I forced a smile. "Yeah. Graduation rocked."

He was hesitant, but asked the question. "What happened to you?"

I swallow. "What do you mean?" I know exactly what he means. Considering that he's being nice to me, I should probably be nice back.

"You look so…dark." He says, his eyes back on the road.

"I know." I reply, turning to look out the window.

He takes a breath. "All right, I'll ask a different question. What have you done since high school?"

"I got a job." I say.

"Really? That's excellent." He says.

"I got fired." I continue.

"Oh." He responds.

I take a breath.

"Well, have you done anything since then?" He asks.

I shake my head, still looking out the window. "No. Not really."

He's quiet as he turns into a neighborhood.

I'm curious as to why he's being nice to me. I've never really done anything for him.

He pulls into a driveway and stops the car. "Well, here we are."

I look out the windshield. We're parked in front of a huge house with columns on the front, and a huge wrap around porch.

I'm aware that I'm gaping as I get out of the car.

I'm speechless as I look around.

He must have three acres all to himself.

Mr. Lancer starts for the front door whistling, swinging his keys around on his index finger.

He pauses when he realizes I'm still standing by the car.

"Come on, Danny. The front door's this way." He says.

I know where the front door is. I'm not blind.

I'm just awestruck by his house. First off, if he's only a teacher, how is able to afford this? Second…I do not belong here.

I take a breath and look down at my clothes. Despite my sleeves being a dark blue color, the blood has still soaked through.

My shoes are dirty and my clothes are covered in dirt.

Yeah…I definitely don't belong.

"I'm coming." I tell him and start for the sidewalk.

He unlocks the door and a German shepherd comes bounding out of the house.

Mr. Lancer grabs the dog by the collar and gently pulls him back into the house.

"Sorry." He says to me, a smile on his face. "He's a little excited."

I don't mind dogs.

"It's fine." I tell him and walk up the few stairs into his house.

When I step in, Mr. Lancer closes the screen door.

If I thought the outside was impressive, it's got nothing on the inside.

Against one wall is a black grand piano that appears brand new. Across from the piano is a huge fireplace with a stack of firewood beside it.

A couch sits on one wall and a few armchairs are against the other wall.

I awkwardly slide my hands into my pockets. I couldn't have felt any smaller if I'd tried.

Mr. Lancer clears his throat and releases the dog. "Go on, Jackie. Go lay down."

The dog trots out of the living room, panting.

"The kitchen's through here." Mr. Lancer tells me, indicating a door the dog passed by.

I swallow. "Ok."

"Come on, I'll fix you something to eat." He says, checking his watch.

I slide my phone out of my pocket as we walk toward the door.

It's one thirty. Does Mr. Lancer usually wait this late to eat? Am I intruding?

So many questions…

I put my phone back into my pocket and clear my throat. "Um, thank you sir."

He pushes open the door to reveal a stunning dining room.

"For what?" He asks.

I swallow. "For giving me something to eat."

He smiles. "Don't worry about it."

Mr. Lancer holds the door open for me to walk through.

I step into the dining room and wait for him to lead me where to go.

"Why don't you have a seat?" He offers. "I'll bring the food out."

I look up and down the table. Where am I supposed to sit?

He walks past the dining room table and pulls out a chair. "Here, come sit."

I start for the chair then look at the bloody state my hands are in.

"A-actually, sir…may I use the bathroom first?" I ask.

He nods. "Sure." He points to a door off to my right.

"Thank you." I say.

He disappears into the kitchen and I walk into the bathroom.

I turn the light on and close the door.

After a few deep breaths, I look in the mirror. I still don't understand how Mr. Lancer was able to recognize me.

My own sister didn't!

I look down at my hands again and realize that the blood is almost dry. I roll my sleeves up out of the way so I won't get them wet and start washing my hands.

I wince when I accidentally get soap into one of my cuts.

After most of the blood has been washed off my hands, I dry them on a towel by the sink.

My cuts are still bleeding so I look around to see if Lancer kept bandages in the bathroom.

They weren't under the sink or in the basket by the tub. Thankfully though, there's a box on the shelf with the extra rolls of toilet paper.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I open the box and dig out several bandages.

I have to put two on my left arm and three on my right arm.

A third cut on my left arm is bleeding too heavily for a bandage. I search the shelf till I find a box of gauze pads and medical tape.

I tape the gauze on my arm then roll my sleeves down.

I look in the mirror. My eyes look sad. No wonder Lancer seems so concerned.

I sigh and throw the bandage wrappers in the trash can under the sink.

With one final glance at my reflection, I shut the light off and step out of the bathroom.

Mr. Lancer is waiting at the table with two bowls of a soup and a plate of cornbread muffins in between the two.

I swallow and start toward the table, my stomach growling with hunger.

He disappears back into the kitchen and comes back out carrying two glasses of tea.

"Here." He says, setting one down by one of the bowls.

"Thank you, sir." I reply and sit down by the bowl across from where he's standing.

He sits down in the chair across from me and gives me a smile. "How are you doing?"

I blow on the soup. "I'm ok…"

He's suspicious. "What were you doing outside of the nasty burger?"

"Trying to work up the nerve to beg for my job back." I lie.

He raises an eyebrow and takes a spoonful of his soup. "Hmm…"

I take several spoonful's of soup before coming up for air.

Mr. Lancer pushes a saucer toward me. "Grab a muffin."

I do and take a bite. It's like heaven's exploded across my taste buds.

"Mmmm." I respond, chowing down.

He smiles and continues eating. "I'm glad you like it."

Within a minute, I'm finished with the muffin and desperately want another one.

I'm draining the last of my soup when I realize Mr. Lancer is staring at me.

I set my bowl down, embarrassed.

"Sorry." I mumble.

"When was the last time you had food?" He asks.

I try to nonchalantly shrug. "The other day."

His eyebrows draw downward. "Hmm…"

I fold my hands on top of each other and sit in silence.

He pushes the muffin plate toward me. "Go ahead. Have as many as you like."

I hastily grab two more and eat them within a few minutes.

"Thank you, sir." I say when I finish the third muffin.

"I'm serious, Danny. Eat as many as you want." He says, pushing his empty bowl of soup away from him.

I avoid his gaze as I take another one.

I wonder if that pit in my stomach will ever be full.

After I eat two more, I think I'm starting to feel a bit better.

I fold my hands over top of one another.

"When was the last time someone fed you, Daniel?" He asks.

I swallow and shrug. "I told you. The other day."

He studies me.

"My sister's in town." I say, my eyes on the table. "I had lunch with her yesterday."

"Jasmine's in town?" He asks.

I nod.

"Daniel." He says.

I look up at him. "Yes?"

"What happened to you?" He asks again.

I avoid his gaze. "Nothing…I've just changed."

"A lot." He says.

I wince. I have.

"I know." I tell him.

"You want to tell me why you've changed?" He asks.

I shake my head. I don't want to. If he wants me to…I suppose I could.

He studies me again, then takes a breath. "Ok. Why were you sitting outside?"

I swallow. That question is slightly easier. "I was resting. I was tired."

"From what?" He asks.

"Walking." I respond.

He's quiet for a minute and I feel his eyes on me.

"From where?" He finally asks.

"The bridge out by the high school." I say.

He's hesitant when he asks, but he does ask. "What were you doing on the bridge?"

Thinking about jumping…

"Just sitting." I tell him. "I was on the phone with one of my friends."

He's quiet as he surveys me. "And your arms?"

My heart skips a beat and starts beating faster. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Maiming yourself?" He asks, a slight hint of anger in his words. "Really?"

I take a small shaky breath, still avoiding his gaze. "You don't understand."

"I think I do, Danny. Self-injury is used as a coping mechanism. So tell me, just what exactly are you trying to cope from?" He asks, crossing his arms.

I stare down at the table not wanting to answer him.

He waits while I struggle with how to tell him.

I could simply refuse to tell him...but he just fed me and sheltered me from the cold.

He deserves my cooperation.

But how to tell him when he'll never understand?

"I'm just coping from a lot of things." I tell him.

He narrows his eyes. "That's not an answer."

I don't respond.

Mr. Lancer shakes his head. "Fine. Why aren't you home right now?"

"My parents and I are in a fight." I say.

He nods. "Ok. What are you guys fighting about?"

I sigh and prop my elbows up on the table, dropping my head into my hands. "What aren't we fighting about?"

"What do you mean?"

I take a breath. "We've been fighting for six months. We fight about everything."

"Why?" He asks.

I shake my head. "I don't just are."

He rubs his temple. "Ok. When did you start fighting?"

"About six months ago." I reply.

"What started the fight?" He asks.

I open my mouth. I want to tell him…but I can't. He won't understand.

"I don't remember." I lie.

He doesn't believe me, but he doesn't say it.

"All right, when was the last time you guys fought?" He asks.

"This morning." I reply. "My dad was angry with me for not coming home last night…or the night before that."

Mr. Lancer raises his eyebrows. "Where were you last night and the night before that?"

I swallow. "Um, two nights ago, I stayed with someone I knew in high school. And last night I…fell asleep outside so I, um, just slept there."

He studies me. "Daniel, that's not healthy."

I nod. "I know, sir."

He taps his chin. "Here, why don't you take a shower? I'm sure you'll feel better once you do."

"No, I'm all right, sir. You've done enough." I tell him.

"I don't care what I've done. You're not taking care of yourself. You need to take a shower." He says, arms crossed.

I raise an eyebrow. What is he going to do? Make me?

He stares at me, obviously trying to wait me out.

Why is he being so nice to me?

I sigh. "Sir, I don't have any clean clothes to change into."

"Allow me to take care of that." He stands up from the table. "I'll be right back."

I wait for him to return and think over what I'm going to say.

Should I just accept his kindness? Should I fight him on this?

All these questions fill up the space in my head and I allow myself to drift back to the past. Remembering when life was simple…

* * *

*Then*

I pulled the car to a stop in an abandoned parking lot a few miles outside of town.

Slowly, I unbuckled my seat belt and turned to Sam. "What's wrong?"

She wiped her tears away and looked at me. "I love you so much."

I took a breath. "Are you pregnant?"

She looked ready to shoot me but instead she punched my arm. "No!"

I rubbed the spot she punched. "Sorry. Thought I'd ask."

She laughed but more tears cascaded down her face.

"What's wrong?" I asked again.

She sighed. "Just…my parents."

I frowned. "What did they do this time?"

She shook her head. "Just what they always do. I was so elated after yesterday, and they did everything they could to crush that feeling."

I sighed, frustrated with the way they were treating her. I took her hand. "I'm sorry."

Sam turned to look at me, giving me a sad smile. "Why are you so good to me?"

"Because you deserve it." I said without hesitation.

She smiled. "I love you."

"I love you too, Sam. But you should know that what I said was the truth. You deserve someone being good to you. I don't know how your parents can be cruel, when your soul is beautiful."

A real smile spread across her face.

I smiled back. "How are you now?"

"Back on cloud nine." She replied, still smiling.

I laughed. "Good."

She unbuckled her seatbelt and scooted closer to me. She laid her head on my chest and snuggled into my arms.

I kissed the top of her head. "I love you so much."

"I love you too." She replied quietly.

I rubbed slow circles in her back, loving the way she felt in my arms.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: So here it is guys. This is the chapter I'm pretty sure most of you guys have been waiting for. This reveals why Danny is the way that he is now. This chapter is a little longer than most of mine usually are. Mainly because I wanted to reveal what happened to him all at once. But it's told through several flashbacks and I didn't want to rush it. Please tell me what you think of this update in the reviews. Let me know if you realized what happened to Danny before I revealed it. Thanks for reading and enjoy! **

* * *

*Now*

Mr. Lancer comes back into the dining room carrying a stack of folded clothing.

I stand up. "Sir-"

He cuts me off. "These were from my nephew. He left them here last time he visited. I offered to mail them to him but he said it wasn't a big deal. I'm sure he won't mind if I loan them out to someone who can use them."

I swallow and shift awkwardly. What does he want from me?

"Sir, with all due respect-"

He cuts me off again. "Listen, Daniel, I just fed you. You want to know how you can pay me back? Go take a shower."

I exhale and reach for the clothes, all the fight leaving my body almost instantly. "Ok."

He hands me the clothing and points to the bathroom door. "The shower's through there. Towels are on the shelf under the toilet paper. Fresh bandages are on the top shelf."

My face reddens.

He gives me an understanding look. "It's ok. Go. I'll see you when you're finished."

I turn my back toward him and slowly walk towards the bathroom.

Once I'm inside, I turn the light on and close the bathroom door.

I turn the water on and hang a towel on a hook by the tub. I slowly undress myself, starting with my long sleeved shirt.

As I'm throwing the bandages in the trash can under the sink, I accidentally catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

The sight shocks me at first. Then disgusts me second.

Scars litter their way across my wrists, arms, upper arms, chest and stomach.

My ribcages stick out farther than any human being's should. My hip bones are extremely noticeable too.

If anyone were to see me like this, they'd know that on some level I have an eating disorder. Is it an eating disorder if you only eat when you feel like it? They'd also know that I am, for a fact, a freak.

A disgusting, disgusting freak.

I exhale heavily and tear my eyes away from the mirror.

After I finish stripping everything off, I place my shoes by the door so they won't get wet when I get out of the tub.

I climb into the tub and let the steaming shower spray hit me full force.

I close my eyes and let the water run all over my body.

It stings horribly when it runs across my cuts, and even some of my scars…but the pain is refreshing. It helps keep my mind off everything.

How much my parents hate me…how much I hate myself, how much my own girlfriend was disgusted by me when she saw me for the first time after-

I stop myself, breathing heavily.

This isn't good. Tears are threatening to overwhelm me and I don't have a razor in the tub.

No amount of pressure I put on the previous cuts are enough to make the tears go away.

They run down my cheeks anyway.

I gently step out of the shower and pad my way over to the pile of clothes near my shoes, hastily wiping my eyes.

After I fish around inside my jeans pocket, I come out with what I was looking for. My razor blade.

When I straighten, razor poised above my wrist, I see my reflection and know that I can't do this here.

I can't watch myself do this.

Hurriedly, I dash back over to the tub leaving little puddles of water all over the floor.

I jump into the shower and let the water run over me again.

And I cut. Maybe ten, maybe twenty times, I can't remember.

I cut and cut until the water flowing down the drain is blood red.

* * *

*Then*

I drove Sam home and dropped her off at her house. I didn't want to, but she said that she didn't want to make her parents worry.

I couldn't exactly force her to come to my place instead, so I drove her where she wanted to be.

Even though every muscle was screaming at me not to leave her there, I did. It was what she wanted.

I had to respect that.

On my way home, I stopped and got a monster. I was drained from last night and desperately needed a good kick of energy.

I had the thing drained within minutes.

It was just starting to hit me as I pulled the car into my driveway.

That's when I remembered why I don't drink energy drinks. No one was sure of how I would re-act to them.

Sam always advised me against it because it was healthier for me to drink something 'all natural'. Jazz advised me against it because she didn't know how I would react and didn't want me to risk it.

Tucker usually tried to convince me to drink one.

I got out of the car and started up the stairs moving faster than I should have been able to.

Willing myself to calm down, I opened the front door.

My parents were sitting on the couch.

"Hi, Danny." My mom said, giving me a smile.

I smiled back. "Hi."

My father nodded at me, completely absorbed in his crossword puzzle.

I walked into the kitchen and tried to get my breathing to calm down.

A duplicate of myself split away from me and started for the pantry. I guess energy drinks made me hungry.

I tried to reign the duplicate back in but he wouldn't come near me.

"Danny?" My mom called.

Her voice sounded surprisingly close.

I panicked and willed my duplicate to become a part of me again. It didn't budge.

"Danny, do you think you could-" My mom's sentence was cut short as she dropped the plate and glass she was holding.

Glass and porcelain spread all around her. She stared open-mouthed at me.

"D-Danny? What-What did you do?" She asked.

I opened my mouth to answer, but I didn't know how to.

"What is that?" She asked.

My father came up behind her, looking just as bewildered.

"Danny?" He asked, frowning deeply.

I didn't know what to do.

My adrenaline was running high, I couldn't do anything.

Against my own will, I phased into Danny Phantom.

My duplicate, sensing the change, walked over to me and patted me on the back.

"Nice job, ace." He then became a part of me, and one Danny stood staring at his perplexed and angry parents.

* * *

*Now*

I cut the water off and look down at my newly cut arms. The blood still smells fresh.

I towel off as much as I can on my own clothing before I use the towel. I want to get as little blood of mine on the towel as humanly possible.

Mr. Lancer was doing me a favor by being so kind to me. I wouldn't let myself ruin his towels.

After I dry off completely, I attempt to apply new bandages.

My cuts are literally everywhere on my arms and bandages aren't going to do it.

I literally have to wrap my entire arms in gauze pad just to keep it from bleeding through.

I pull my head through the neck hole in the shirt and roll the sleeves down.

Thankfully, Lancer's nephew prefer's looser sleeves. The gauze pads should be less noticeable.

I finish getting dressed, then survey my surroundings, trying to decide if there's anything I've left out of place.

I throw the papers and wrappers from the few bandages I did use in the trash can under the sink.

I wad my clothes up into a ball and leave them in the corner of the floor.

I use my towel to mop up the puddles I created. Then, I tuck my razor into my pocket and slide my phone into my back pocket.

I look at myself in the mirror. My dark black and red streaked hair is still wet. I tried my best to dry it, but it just flopped over to the side and refused to release the moisture.

With a small sigh, I open the bathroom door and shut the light off.

Carefully, I step back inside the dining room, sliding my feet into my shoes.

"Mr. Lancer?" I call.

"In the living room!" He calls back.

I take a deep breath. It's ok. I can do this.

Slowly, I make my way through the dining room and into the living room.

He's sitting on the couch, his dog Jackie beside him.

When Mr. Lancer sees me, he smiles.

"Feel better?" He asks.

I nod. "Yes, sir."

"Good." He replies, then pushes Jackie into the floor.

The dog settles himself onto Mr. Lancer's feet and lays there panting.

Mr. Lancer looks at me. "Come sit."

I swallow and force myself to walk the few feet to the couch.

Reluctantly, I sink down onto the couch. His place is nothing like Kwan's.

Kwan's apartment was more of a bachelor pad, Mr. Lancer's is more like a home.

Briefly, I wonder if Mr. Lancer was ever married.

"Daniel?" He asks, interrupting my thoughts.

I snap back to the present. "Yes, sir?"

He surveys me and quietly asks it again. "What happened to you?"

I close my eyes. I don't want to tell him this. I don't want him to know what I remember. And what was done to me…

* * *

*Then*

"Danny?" My mom's voice was surprised, scared.

"Mom, Dad, I…" I have nothing to say.

"Wh-What is the meaning of this?" My father asked, shocked beyond belief.

I phased back into Danny Fenton and held my hands up, letting them know that I wasn't going to hurt them. "It's me. It's your son."

My father stared at me and my mom took a step toward me.

"Mom, it's me." I said, slowly lowering my hands.

"Danny?" She asked, taking another small step toward me."

"Mom." I replied.

My father continued to stare at me.

"What is the meaning of this?" He demanded again.

"I-I…" I couldn't figure out how explain it. "When I was 14, there was an accident in the lab. I-I ended up half a ghost."

My father's eyes widened. "Th-that's possible?"

I nodded. "Apparently."

His face started to get red. "Tell me how it happened."

I looked to my mom for help but she looked just as lost.

"Dad, what do you-"

My father took a few steps forward and pushed me backward.

I stumbled but caught myself. "What are you doing?"

"Tell me how to get it out of you." He demanded. "I don't want a ghost possessing my son."

"What? There's no ghost possessing me. It's a part of me." I said.

"Great, you're attached." He shoved me again. "Get it out of you, now."

"Dad, you're not listening to me. There's not-"

He shoved me harder and I fell down. I hit my head on the floor, blacking out almost instantly.

* * *

*Now*

I clench my fists against the memories as tears brim in my eyes.

"Danny?" Mr. Lancer calls.

He doesn't understand. He'll never understand.

"Tell me what's going on." He whispers.

He's being so kind to me. I should tell him the truth.

"I'm here for you." He says.

I press my fists against my eyes not wanting to break down again.

Mr. Lancer puts a hand on my back and rubs small circles. "It's ok, Danny."

A sob breaks through me as I flash back to the day.

* * *

*Then*

I woke up, surrounded by tools of my parent's trade.

"Mom?" I croaked, feeling strangely empty inside.

My limbs felt weak and heavy.

A sadness was in my heart and I didn't know why.

"Mom? Dad?" I called again, sitting up.

My parents were nowhere in sight.

Slowly, I rose to my feet and started toward the basement.

If my parents were anywhere, they'd be in the lab.

After climbing the set of stairs, I was wiped out.

"Dad? Mom?" I called again, looking around.

My father rose from behind a row of beakers.

"Dad? What are you-" I stopped short when I saw a clear chamber near the ghost portal.

"Dad…what did you do?" I whispered.

"I got him out." He replied flatly.

Floating in the chamber was my ghost half. Danny Phantom. Part of me.

I couldn't think. Slowly, I walked over to the chamber. I put my hands on it but electricity coursed through my arms.

I removed my hands, breathing heavily. "Dad, why did you do that?"

He didn't answer and I whirled around, furious with him.

"Why did you do that!?" I screamed.

"I did it for your own good!" He replied in a yell.

I turned back around toward the chamber, not being able to stop the tears that were coursing down my cheeks.

Even though it shocked me, I put my hands on the chamber. If I could get him out, maybe I could fuse back together with myself.

That's all I had to do.

But as soon as I reached for the release switch, he was sucked from the chamber and expelled into the ghost zone.

"No!" I screamed, watching him disappear.

I turned around, my heart heavy with sadness and anger.

"Dad, what did you do!?" I screamed, falling to my knees.

"I won't let you be controlled by a ghost!" He yelled.

"Dad, he was a part of me! He was me!" I screamed, clutching my head in my hands as tears overwhelmed me and finally streamed down my face.

* * *

*Now*

I couldn't hold back the flow of tears any longer. I let go with a heart-stopping sob.

Mr. Lancer's arms went around me immediately and he pulled me against his chest.

"Danny, it's ok. I'm right here." He says.

"I tried s-so h-hard." I sob, clutching his shirt for dear life.

He rubs my back and whispers in my ear. "It's ok, you're ok."

"Th-They couldn't accept me f-for what I was!" I sob, burying my face in his shoulder.

The pain tore through me like a bullet. Piercing everything in it's way.

"I know, buddy. It's ok." He whispers.

Sob after sob wracks through me and soon, I'm nothing but a sniveling mass.

Mr. Lancer patiently waits me out, rubbing my back and whispering words of comfort.

Finally, when I've gotten control of it a little, I pull away from him.

I don't want him to have to hold me any longer than necessary.

I try to sit up again but he gently presses my head against his chest, still rubbing my back.

Slowly, I allow him to resituate me. He's now cradling my head against his chest, and hugging me.

It feels so safe here. I've cried everything out. I need to rest.

My eyes close and soon I'm snoring lightly against his chest.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Sorry readers. :-/ I know it's been a while since I updated. I normally update much faster than this but I've been really busy and conflicted on where to take this story and just ughhhh. :P Anyway, please let me know what you think of this update and enjoy! **

* * *

Mr. Lancer's POV:

I gaze down at the sleeping boy in my arms.

Whatever he's been through must have been horrible. I can't imagine what would have caused those earth-shattering and heart-breaking sobs to wrack through him.

He clutched onto me like I was the only person in the world left to comfort him.

It broke my heart when his ragged sobs tore through him. He sounded like he'd given up all hope on everything.

That was a sound I couldn't take. And couldn't understand.

Whatever his parents had done to him had left him like this. A broken person. Someone who didn't even think they were worth fixing.

He might be angry with his parents. He might even be enraged. But above all, he was sad. The kind of sadness that swallows you whole and you don't know how to swim through it all.

The kind of sadness that usually leads to one of two ways out. Getting help or getting a gun.

I silently pray that he hasn't reached that point yet. But something tells me that he already has.

Danny shifts in my arms and snuggles into my chest.

My heart constricts. This boy has seen so much sadness and pain. I hope against hope that he's not too far gone.

That it isn't too late…

* * *

Danny's POV:

I open my eyes and look around.

I'm not sure how long I've been asleep but Mr. Lancer is still holding me.

Awkwardly, I shift to see if he's awake.

He is. He's staring down at me.

I immediately look down. A feeling of shame creeps over me and I feel my face get hot.

"It's ok, Danny." He says, giving my back another rub or two. "Tell me what's going on."

I wipe away my tears and sniffle a little. "M-My parents. They didn't accept me for who I really was."

Mr. Lancer's quiet for a few minutes. "You mean your Danny Phantom half?" He asks.

I look up, surprised. "What are you talking about?"

He gives me an apologetic smile. "Danny, you fell asleep in my class and your head drifted through your desk multiple times. After that, I kept an eye on you. I knew exactly what you were and what you were capable of before you'd even figured all that out for yourself."

I pull away from him and sit up, wiping at my face. "But…how did you know?"

He takes a breath. "Your fight with the technologically obsessed ghost. The one through the computer game?"

Realization hit. "Ohhh. That was Technus, and I fought him through Doomed."

He gives me a smile. "Yeah, see? I knew you would remember."

Curiously, I ask him another question. "Why didn't you just tell me that you knew?"

He shrugs. "I figured when you were ready, you'd tell others. And I'd learn eventually."

I nod. So all this time, Lancer's been watching me? Trying to help me?

"So…so that B I got on the last test of the semester last year…that wasn't truly my B was it?" I question.

He shakes his head. "No. I'm afraid not. You earned a D minus. But I'd seen you out the night before, battling easily ten to twenty ghosts. I figured since you slept your way through most of the test, I could give you a few extra points here and there. I claimed they were for your creativity or ability to think outside of the box."

He chuckles and continues. "But really, I was giving you points for every ghost you fought the other night."

I smile. "Well…thanks for that."

He rubs my back and I almost want our conversation to be over.

But he asks, and I know I have to answer.

"So, after your parents found out the other half of you who you are, what did they do? What did they say?" He asks.

I swallow hard and avoid his gaze. "My father wanted nothing to do with that half of who I was."

Mr. Lancer stiffens at the use of the word, 'was'.

"And?" He urges.

I take a shaky breath, trying to find the strength to tell him. "He, uh…he took that part away from me. I don't know how, and I didn't ask how. He just…did."

Fresh tears spring to my eyes and before I can stop them, they're running down my face again.

I'm so sick of crying.

Mr. Lancer begins rubbing my back again. "I'm so sorry, Danny."

I press my fists against my eyes again. Why am I letting my parents get to me? I should have never come back to Amity Park after what they did to me.

* * *

*Then*

I fled my house as soon as possible, not wanting to look at my father at all.

For the rest of the day, I ended up driving around and ignoring all phone calls and text messages I got.

As far as I was concerned, I never wanted to see either one of my parents ever again.

Finally, around eight pm, I pulled up in front of Sam's house and sent her a text message.

'I'm parked outside your house. Can you please come out? I need to talk to you.'

I thought I had already cried out all my tears but apparently I hadn't because fresh ones started falling as I watched her walk out the door.

She had her shoes in one hand and her purse in the other.

She padded her way toward my car, smiling.

I was about to erase that smile. I didn't want to rain on her happiness…but she would want to know.

Sam opened the car door and sat down inside, pulling the door shut behind her.

"Thank god you came. My parents were going off about something. It's good to have an excuse to get out of there." She said, dropping her stuff onto the floor then turning to look at me.

When she saw the tears running down my face, she scooted closer to me.

"Whoa, what's wrong?" She asked.

I couldn't think.

"They found out what I was." I whispered.

She raised an eyebrow, holding her breath. "What happened?"

I dropped my head into my hands and Sam put her arm around me. "Danny, what happened? What did they say?"

Tears ran down my face as a sob broke through. "They took it away from me."

I didn't even know why I was crying. When I thought about it, I always complained about this part of me.

But now that it was gone, it felt like a hole had been punched straight through my chest. I felt empty inside.

"What?" Sam asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I couldn't respond even if I wanted to.

They'd taken away the one part of me that I never wanted in the first place, but now wasn't sure I could live without.

"They took it away. They sent that part of me into the ghost zone." I said, the reality finally hitting me.

Saying it out loud made it all the more concrete.

"Danny...what can we do? How can we get it back?" She asked.

I took a shaky breath. "We can't. We can't get it back, Sam. For now..."

I lifted my head and looked at her. "For now, I'm only half-human. The other half of me is gone."

That explains the empty feeling in my chest.

The part of me that should be inside of me is suddenly out. And I have no way to get it back.

My chest is heavy with hurt, sadness and emptiness.

I know now that I will never be the same again.

* * *

*Now*

I wipe my nose on the sleeve of my shirt, feeling just as small as I did that day.

"Danny, I'm right here." Mr. Lancer says.

I'm not ready to talk again but I just want this conversation to be over.

"Once my parents found out what I was-" My voice breaks but I continue. "They took that half away from me. I haven't been Phantom in over six months."

He sits there in shocked silence.

I cover my face. The truth is gut-wrenchingly painful.

He slowly rubs my back again. "Did you tell anyone?"

I sniffle behind my hands and nod.

"Who?" He asks, continuing to comfort me.

I raise my head and lower my hands to my rest on my knees.

The tears are still streaming down my face. "I told m-my sister Jazz, and my friends Sam and Tucker."

He's quiet as he mulls this over.

I take a shaky breath. "I never intended on telling my parents. When they found out, I-I didn't know what to do."

Mr. Lancer nods and puts his hand on my back again. "I promise you, it's all going to be ok again."

He puts his other hand on my arm. "There's no need to do that anymore."

A blush creeps across my face and I nod. "Yes sir."

He takes a breath. "Second, do you know if there's a way to get your Phantom half back?"

My shoulders drop and I shake my head. "If there is, I'm not aware of it."

"Hmm." He responds.

I wipe at my nose with my sleeve. "Trust me, if I knew of a way to get that part of me back…I would be doing everything I could to do it."


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Hey readers. :) Thanks for sticking with this story. Currently, I'm having computer issues :-/ I'm updating this chapter from a different computer. Hopefully, my updates will be more consistent when I get my own computer back. :p But for now, here's this chapter and tell me what you think. :) **

* * *

*Then*

I ended up sitting outside Sam's house for almost two hours. We talked, I cried, she comforted me, I cried some more, we talked again.

Up until her parents started calling repeatedly. After she got out of the car, I drove around down-town and parked my car in a parking lot and passed out asleep.

Shortly after the sun came up, I did too.

I went back to driving aimlessly around.

I wasn't hungry. I wasn't tired. I wasn't angry. I wasn't sad.

I was just numb.

And right then, feeling nothing felt worse than anything.

Just as the sun started to rise, clouds formed in the sky.

Soon it was pouring rain and the radio stations were advising everyone to get off the roads if at all possible and to use extreme caution.

With nowhere else to go, I started toward Sam's house.

The sky started to get darker.

I should have gotten off the road.

I shouldn't have kept driving.

The radio stations were warning everyone to get off the road. The weather conditions were dangerous.

I should have gotten off the road.

But I didn't.

I was driving down the road just fine, took a turn too fast and the next thing I knew, my car was wrapped around a telephone pole.

Barely breathing, I tried to dial for help.

I blacked out before I could.

* * *

*Now*

Mr. Lancer moves us into the dining room and puts on a pot of coffee.

"We'll figure this out." He tells me.

I nod.

We won't.

"Do you want to get your powers back?" He asks.

I nod.

I do. But we won't.

"Then we'll do everything we can to get them back." He tells me.

I don't have high hopes for whatever he's planning.

Then again, I don't have high hopes for anything anymore.

I don't have any hope at all.

I take a deep breath. "Mr. Lancer, I appreciate everything you've done for me. You're being incredibly kind."

He raises an eyebrow. "But?"

I sigh. "But I can't stay. I have to get home."

He sits back and regards me suspiciously. "Why?"

What does he mean why?

"Because." I give a small shrug. "I have to live somewhere."

"You don't have to live with them." He says.

"I do." I respond.

When he tries to argue, I shake my head, cross my arms and muster up the strength to give him a glare.

He stares back at me then finally shakes his head. "Fine. But my house is always open, just so you know."

I nod. "Thank you, sir."

He looks at me sympathetically as I stand up.

"I'll be in touch." He tells me.

"Ok." I respond.

I don't care if he is or isn't.

I don't care about anything anymore.

Slowly, I make my way into the living room, carrying my clothes with me.

"Danny, wait." Mr. Lancer calls as I approach the front door.

I turn around. "Yes sir?"

He nervously fidgets. "You don't have to go."

I do.

"I know." I lie, taking a backwards step closer to the door.

"I'm going to worry about you." He says.

My eyebrows draw down. Why does he care?

"Why?" I voice.

"Because. You're going back to live with the very people who nearly destroyed you." He says.

I take a breath.

My parents, I can handle.

Stranger's kindness?

I suppress a shudder.

"I'll be fine, sir." I reply.

He stares at me, unconvinced. "Whatever you say, Daniel."

I open my mouth to say something –anything that will explain to him why I'm going back into the lion's den.

But there's nothing left to say.

I'm going back because I have nowhere else to go. And because I won't take a handout from Mr. Lancer.

I close my mouth and open the door.

"Goodbye, sir." I say quietly, avoiding his eyes. "Thanks for everything."

I exit his house, willing myself not to look back.

* * *

*Then*

Machines were beeping all around me.

My eyelids felt too heavy to open.

There were voices beside me.

I struggled to open my eyes.

When I did, I discovered that my parents were beside me. They looked worried and I was having a hard time understanding why.

When I opened my eyes, my mother sat up straighter.

"Danny." She said.

"Mom?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

My father stood up from his chair and moved toward the door.

My mom scooted closer to me as tears fell from her eyes. "Hi baby."

"Mom, what happened?" I asked, forcing my voice to raise above a whisper even though it hurt like hell.

"We'll explain everything, dear." She told me.

My father opened the door and stepped out. "Doctor, he's awake." He called down the hall.

I looked toward the door as a man in a white coat came into the room.

"Hello, Daniel." He gave me a smile. "You gave us quite a scare."

I blinked. I had no idea what he was talking about.

I remembered graduating from Casper High…and then nothing. It was all a blank.

"How are you feeling now?" He asked, sliding a pen out of his pocket.

"I'm…doing all right?" I guessed.

He looked up at me and picked a clipboard up from the end of my bed.

"Mm, hmm. Do you remember anything from your accident?" He asked.

My accident?

My heart started racing. My accident. White hair. Green eyes. Superhuman strength.

Things no human should ever know about.

"N-no, sir." I lied. "What accident are you talking about?"

His eyebrows drew down and he glanced at my parents.

They shared a look between the two, then nodded at the doctor.

The doctor slid his pen back into his pocket and set the clipboard back on the end of the bed.

"Why don't we give you some time to rest? We'll talk with you when you're ready." He suggested.

"Sir, what are you talking about?" I asked, feeling desperate.

How much did he know about my ghost powers? Did my parents know? Were they angry with me?

The doctor took a deep breath. "You were in a car accident. Forty eight hours ago. None of us were sure you were going to make it."

I looked at my parents for confirmation.

My father was holding my mom against his chest and rubbing her back.

So they weren't talking about the ghost accident.

I gave a small sigh of relief. My secret was still safe.

But if I had been in a car accident, how come the doctors hadn't seen anything suspicious on the machines I was hooked up to.

My heart started beating faster.

"Forty eight hours ago?" I asked.

Was I out that long?

The doctor nodded. "Yes. Approximately."

He looked at my parents and gave them a sympathetic look. "Why don't we step outside for a minute?"

He looked back to me. "We'll be right outside. Hit that button if you need a nurse." He indicated a red button off to my left.

I nodded. "Ok."

My parents exited the room behind the doctor and I rolled over in my bed.

Where was my phone? Had my parents contacted Sam?

I looked beside me on the table and even on the bed, but I couldn't find my phone. I guess I'd just have to ask my parents where it was when they came back in the room.

For now though, a headache had settled in between my eyes and I wanted to rest a little.

I leaned back against the pillows and let my eyes close.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Hey readers! :) Sorry this update hasn't come as quickly as the previous ones. This is the beginning of the meeting with Sam and Danny and I really wanted to get his thoughts/feelings right. **

**Also, since I still don't have my own computer, I'm having to write on this from various computers when I get the chance. This chapter has Mr. Lancer's point of view again (I've come to kind of enjoy writing in his POV) but next chapter will have Sam's point of view. Yeah, I know, not too terribly original. :P **

**Anyway though, please let me know what you think of this update in the reviews. **

* * *

*Now*

Mr. Lancer's POV:

That poor boy. His life has been hell since graduation.

My heart aches as I settle back down at the table.

What can I do for him? I held him while he cried, I clothed him, I fed him...yet still he's going back to his parents - who barely do half of that.

I drop my head into my hands and exhale heavily. He's only eighteen.

And already taking care of himself. Because he has to. Not because he's chosen to.

If his parents won't look out for him, I will.

Hell, even if they do decide to pull their heads out of the rear ends and pay him some attention, I will still be there for him.

I straighten.

Yes.

That's it. He just has to know that I'm for real. That I'm not going anywhere just because of everything he's been through.

Does he think I'm afraid of him?

My shoulders drop. I'm not. But does he think so?

"Oh Daniel." I shake my head and drop it back into my hands.

How do I let this tortured boy know that I care about him? That I want to make it all better for him?

As far as I can tell, he's not letting anyone in.

How do I break down his walls? Or climb over them?

* * *

Danny's POV:

I cross my arms against the wind, still clutching my clothes against my chest.

It's freezing out and I wish I were back inside with Mr. Lancer.

But I've made a choice. I'm going back to live with my parents.

They deserve to have to look at me and know that they're the reason I'm like this.

So depressed. And dark. And suicidal.

They made me who I am today.

That thought steeled me forward.

I am who I am because of what was done to me.

My parents don't deserve my forgiveness.

And they will never earn it.

Once I near my neighborhood, I start to stall

I begin taking back roads and circling the area a few times.

After a few more minutes of stalling, I decide to man up and just go to my house.

I reach my house and stand outside, fidgeting.

I'm scared of going in.

But at the same time, I'm scared of not going in.

After a few deep breaths, I climb the stairs and enter my house.

I'm standing in the foyer, breathing heavily.

This all feels so wrong to me. My heart's beating faster and faster every second.

I drop my clothes in a pile beside me.

Slowly, I inch my way into the living room and take a look around.

There's a half-empty beer bottle set on the coffee table, tv remote beside it. I cross the room and flip the tv on.

It's playing sports. So my dad was watching tv. I figured it was him from the beer.

I lift the bottle and try to determine how long it's been sitting there.

It's warm, but not hot.

I bring the bottle to my lips and take a sip. It burns my throat as I swallow.

After taking a deep breath, I swallow another sip.

I set the bottle on the coffee table again and wander into the kitchen. No one's in here either.

"Mom? Dad?" I call.

It didn't look like anyone was home.

And what was starting to piss me off was this: I wasn't sure if I was pleased or disappointed.

I go up the stairs and into my bedroom.

The picture of Sam and I is still hanging on my wall.

Sam.

With my heart still aching, I slide my cell phone from my pocket and dial Sam's number.

She picks up after the third ring.

"Hello?"

My mouth suddenly feels dry. My tongue much too large for my mouth.

Suspiciously, she asks again. "Hello?"

"Hey Sam." I say with a slight squeak.

"Who is this?" She questions.

"It's me." I say, my voice quiet.

I close my eyes and lean against my door.

She's silent for a minute or two. "Danny?"

I swallow. "Yeah, it's me. Hey."

"Hey." She responds tentatively. "Is everything ok?"

"Everything's fine." I lie. "How about you? What's going on?"

"Nothing much." She responds.

I take a deep breath. "Do you still want to come by?"

"Yeah, of course." She says.

I check the time. It's almost four thirty.

"Is today a good day for you? I mean, you're not busy with family stuff are you?" I ask, half-hoping that she is, half-hoping that she isn't.

"Please, Danny. Any excuse to stay away from my family. You want me to come by now?" She asks.

I exhale the breath I'd been holding. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Ok. I'll be by in like twenty minutes, ok?" She asks.

"All right." I reply.

We say our goodbyes and hang up.

I settle on my bed and take a look around.

My eyes settle on the picture on the wall. Sam. Me and Sam.

Us.

I close my eyes, trying to decide if that being the only decoration in my room is creepy.

Will Sam think it is?

I open my eyes. Why am I caring about what she'll think?

'Because you still love her, idiot.'

I exhale. Great. Of course I do.

I can bullshit my parents, my friends, hell-even my sister.

But I can't bullshit Sam. She's always been able to see right through me. Even before I was a ghost.

I look around and notice the pile of clothes in the corner of my bedroom. Embarrassed, I grab the clothes and take  
them downstairs into the laundry room.

Remembering the clothes I brought in from earlier, I grab those out of the foyer and bring them to the laundry room  
as well.

I straighten the living room a bit (including grabbing my father's beer) and head back upstairs to my room to finish  
straightening.

It's only been ten minutes since I called Sam.

She said at least twenty.

I settle myself down on the couch and flip the television on.

I'm not currently keeping up with any shows so I flip around until I end up on the weather channel.

Normally, I'd turn the tv off at this point. But the sound of the television set eases my mind.

Fifteen minutes pass, then the doorbell rings.

I stand up, my legs shaking, my heart in my throat.

It's been six months since I've seen her.

I'd say I'm a little more than nervous.

A million thoughts race through my mind. What am I going to say? What is she going to say?

Should I hug her? Will she be expecting me to?

I fumble with the door handle and finally pull the door open.

She's wearing a thick winter jacket and the red scarf I bought her as a gift.

Her black hair has grown out. It hangs a little past her shoulders now.

She has a on red hat that has just a light dusting of snow on top.

Her blue jeans disappear around her shin, where they've been stuffed into her black combat boots.

"Danny." She breathes, apparently taking me in as well.

She seems surprised.

Everything I thought of saying to her suddenly flies from my brain.

"Hi." I croak.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Sorry that this took so long to update. I got my computer back and had to catch up on a lot of different things all at once :p This chapter may be seen by most of you as some sort of tease. **

**But I wanted to show it in Sam's POV! *sigh* Anyway, if you like it, let me know in the reviews section. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing. You guys make my day! :) **

* * *

*Then*

I must have fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes, my parents were sitting across from me.

I gave a yawn and a little stretch.

"So how long was out?" I asked.

"About an hour, maybe two." My mom said, giving me a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

I nodded. "And after the car accident...?"

My mom glanced at my dad.

He gave me a look. "Like the doctor said, 48 hours."

Ok, something was up.

I glanced between the two of them, then shrugged. "Ok."

My father looked to my mother.

She looked tired. Weary.

"Where did I crash?" I asked.

My father looked back at me, seeming slightly irritated.

"I don't know. The hospital called to tell us that you were here. We haven't seen the crash site yet."

Why was my father so angry with me?

"Oh. Then..." I scratched my head. "How did I end up here?"

"I don't know." He snapped, glaring at me.

I was surprised by his anger. What had I done to him?

"Ok...dad, why are you mad at me?" I questioned.

My father didn't say anything, just continued to glare.

"Honey." My mom put her hand on his arm,

He pushed her away and stood up.

"I need some air." He stated.

'What are you breathing right now?' I thought.

He slammed the door on his way out.

I looked at my mom.

Quietly, I asked her. "What's with him?"

She swallowed and scooted closer to me.

"Danny, do you remember anything about the crash?" She asked tears in her eyes.

I tried really hard to remember. I did.

But it was no use. None of it was coming back to me.

I shook my head. "No. I'm sorry, I don't."

She took a breath. "What's the last thing you do remember?"

I scratched my head. "Um..graduation. I remember seeing you and dad in the crowd."

I frowned. "That's it. That's the last thing I remember."

She nodded, her eyebrows creased in concern.

"How long has it been since graduation?" I asked.

"About four days." My mom told me.

I'm processing this.

Four days. I know I've been out 48 hours after the crash.

Then there's the day I crashed. There's a day after graduation that I don't remember at all.

I considered asking my mom but I'm pretty sure she wouldn't tell me.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked me.

I shook my head. "Nothing really."

She took a small breath and leaned back in her chair.

"Have you guys called Sam yet?" I asked.

She bit her lip and shook her head. "No, not yet."

"Hmm." I responded. "Can I borrow your phone? I want to tell her what's going on. That way she doesn't worry if she doesn't hear from me."

My mom stood up and deposited her phone onto the bed. "I'll give you some privacy."

She left, but not before I saw the tears streaming down her face.

Why is she still so sad?

* * *

*Now*

Sam's POV:

My phone rings beside me on the couch.

I pause the game I'm playing and look down at the caller ID.

Danny Fenton.

The picture that's flashing across my screen is one of him that I took last year. When he took me ice-skating.

I bite my lip. Do I want to talk to him?

Hesitantly, I pick up the phone and press the speaker to my ear, hitting the send button.

"Hello?" I ask tentatively.

Dead silence follows my words.

I take a breath.

Is this some kind of prank that he thinks is funny?

"Hello?" I ask again, slightly irritated.

"Hey Sam." A male's voice squeaks.

It doesn't sound like Danny.

"Who is this?" I demand.

He sighs into the receiver. "It's me."

My heart stops. It's my Danny.

"Danny?" I ask, holding my breath.

"Yeah, hey, it's me." He responds.

"Hey." I respond, hesitantly. "Is everything ok?"

I cross my fingers. 'Please don't say you've had another accident. Please don't say you've had another-'

"Everything's fine." He says. "How about you? What's going on?"

I look around. My game is still paused. My parents are in their bedroom with the door shut, trying to keep the screaming to a minimum.

My grandma's resting from another headache, and I'm sitting on the couch.

"Nothing much." I respond.

He inhales. "Do you still want to come by?"

"Yeah, of course." I say, perking up.

"Is today a good day for you? I mean, you're not busy with family stuff are you?"

"Please, Danny." I say, wincing as I hear my parents shouting reach it's peak. "Any excuse to stay away from my family. You want me to come by, now?"

"Yeah, that sounds good." He tells me.

"Ok. I'll be by in twenty minutes." I tell him, even though I know it'll take me less than five to drive over there.

"Ok." He responds.

We say goodbye and hang up the phone.

I look down at what I'm wearing. A paint-stained black shirt, and crappy jeans.

After sifting through my closet three times, I decide to go with the outfit I was obsessed with back in high school.

My fishnet stockings and plaid skirt.

However, after several minutes of tugging, I realize I've grown a bit since then and I can't fit into the skirt any longer.

Without the skirt, the fishnets are useless, so I ditch them too.

Stifling a small sigh, I pull on a pair of black jeans and a band t-shirt.

Why do I feel the need to dress up for this boy? He's just a boy.

"Right." I tell myself as I apply a hint of lip-gloss.

Deciding on a split second whim, I take my hair out of the ponytail and run a brush through it.

It doesn't look glamorous like Paulina's always did. But it looks all right.

After spending a few minutes brushing my teeth, I take one last look in the mirror.

I realize that I look nothing like I did six months ago.

Briefly, I wonder what he'll think of me.

"He's just a boy." I chastise myself.

But somehow, I'm still nervous about what he'll think of me.

* * *

I park my car on the end of the street and have to basically talk myself into going into Danny's house.

"Come on." I whisper, pulling my gloves on. "It hasn't been that long."

I put my hand on the car door handle and my heart starts beating faster. Butterflies are in my stomach and I take several deep breaths.

"He's just a boy." I whisper, pulling the car door open and stepping out.

I repeat those words to myself over and over again as I make my way to his house.

Within a few short minutes, I'm standing in front of his house.

My stomach is clenching. My hands are shaking.

I take several deep breaths and climb the stairs.

I stop. What if he doesn't want to see me? I shake my head.

"You're being ridiculous." I scold myself. "He called you here. Of course he wants to see you."

After several more deep breaths and a few minutes of crossing my fingers, I ring the doorbell.

I stand in front of his door, shifting my weight.

The lock turns on the door and I hold my breath.

Danny pulls the door open and I see him for the first time in six months.

His hair is longer, and patches of it are dyed an angry red color.

His nose looks like it's been broken. He has a scar on his forehead that I've never seen before.

He's wearing a black long sleeved t-shirt and blue jeans. I count six facial piercings, including two in his ear lobes.

He has a tattoo on his neck that disappears below the collar of his shirt.

I swallow hard.

"Danny." I breathe, taking him in.

"Hi." He croaks.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: This is the update I'm pretty sure most of you have been looking forward to. This is them talking and everything. Sorry, not much action or anything. It's been six months, so they're kind of just playing catch up. Anyway, let me know what you think of this update in the reviews section. Also, if something doesn't make sense or I misspelled something, please forgive me. It's late and I'm tired, and I rushed this a bit to get it up here tonight. :P **

* * *

*Then*

I dialed Sam's number and pressed the phone against my ear.

She picked up on the second ring.

"Hey." She said, sounding hesitant.

"Hi." I replied.

"Are you ok?" She asked.

I looked down at my legs, covered by a thin hospital sheet. I looked at my arms, bruised and scratched up.

I took a breath. "Don't freak out, ok?"

"What happened?" She asked, sounding worried.

I exhaled. "I'm in the hospital."

"What?!" She exclaimed, her voice raising several octaves.

"Sam, it's ok. All right?" I said.

"No, it's not ok! What happened?" She demanded. "What did they do to you?"

"I was in a car accident, ok?" I replied. "Everything's ok."

She took a breath. "Car accident?"

"Yes. It was raining. I took a turn too fast, but I'm ok." I responded.

She exhaled. "I'm on my way right now."

"Ok, I'll see you when you get here." I said, then added: "Drive safely."

"I will." She replied.

We hung up the phone and I took a breath, thankful to have that call out of the way.

My head ran back through our conversation, and I ended up thinking about when she asked, 'What did they do to you?'

Who was they? And what would they have done to put me in the hospital?

My thoughts were interrupted however, because the door opened.

I looked up to see my sister.

She ran to me and engulfed me in a hug.

"Danny! I was so worried!" She exclaimed, planting a kiss on my forehead.

"It's ok." I said, sliding my hands onto her back and rubbing gently.

"Mom and dad came as soon as they knew." She cried. "I was so worried."

"I know, I'm sorry." I repeated.

She pulled away, tears running down her face. "What happened?"

I shrugged. "I was driving, the roads were wet and I took a turn too fast."

Jazz wiped at her face. "I was so worried about you, buddy."

I wasn't really sure what to say. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "No, don't apologize."

I patted the bed beside me. "Here, sit down."

She did and gave me a sad smile.

"I'm ok." I told her.

She nodded. "I know."

I took a breath. "I called Sam. She should be here soon."

"Good. I'll get out of the way when she gets here." She said.

"Don't worry about it." I told her.

Jazz gave me a small smile. "You're great, little brother."

The door opened and my mom was standing there, holding a cup of water.

"Jazz." My mother said quietly.

"Hi mom." Jazz said, turning around to look at her.

I gave a yawn and a stretch.

Jazz stood up and walked over to our mom.

She said it quietly, but I still heard her.

"Why didn't you call me when you found out he was here?" Jazz demanded.

I pretended to start playing with my mom's phone.

"Jazmine, honey, please. Not now." My mom closed the door.

After a few seconds, my mom sat down and Jazz walked back over to me.

"Hey, buddy, I'll see you later, ok?" She asked, picking up her purse from the floor.

I nodded. "Ok."

She kissed the top of my head and exited the room.

I looked at my mom for an explanation.

But she didn't say anything.

* * *

*Now*

**Danny's POV**:

"C-come on in." I breathe.

"Thanks." She says, stepping through the doorway and into the house.

Her hair is still black, but no longer short. It's past her shoulders now and straight. Her bangs are the same, but she's ditched most of her black clothing.

The one thing that's the same, is the jacket she's wearing. It's black leather, and lined with fur on the inside.

I gave that to her for her birthday – partly because I knew how much she wanted it and partly because I knew that she wanted it to piss her parents off.

I take her in slowly. She's still so beautiful. Despite the subtle changes, she's still my Samantha.

After several deep breaths, I step toward her.

She turns around as I approach her.

I stop, feeling her eyes on me. I pretend to be interested in my fingernails.

"Danny?" She calls.

I look up.

She looks back at me.

The distance between us is filled with all the time we've lost. And all the things we shouldn't have said.

"Sam." I respond, my voice barely above a whisper.

Several emotions flit across her face.

She looks at the couch, then back at me. "Come, sit down."

"Ok." I reply, closing the remaining distance between us.

I sit down across from her and say it. "You look good."

"You…you've changed." She replies.

I take a deep breath and nod. "I have."

She reaches across the couch and takes my hand.

I glance down at our intertwined fingers, then look back up to her.

"I've missed you." She whispers.

I hesitate but see no harm in being honest. "I've missed you too."

She takes a deep breath, and continues talking in a whisper. "You don't know how many times I've wanted to call you…"

"My phone number's still the same." I say.

She tilts her head to one side – a sure sign that she's annoyed.

No longer whispering, "So is mine."

I sigh. "I know. I'm sorry. I just…I couldn't talk to you. Not right away. It was too…"

"Painful?" She asks, finishing my sentence.

Slowly, I nod. "Yeah. That."

"Danny, I have always been there for you. What made you think I wouldn't be then?" She asks.

Concern and worry are in her eyes.

I squeeze her hand, trying to give myself support. I stare down at the couch. "I don't know."

"I cared about you then and I care about you now." She says.

I look up and nod. "I know. I…I still care about you too."

A small smile appears on her face. "What have you been doing since…" She struggles to find the words, not wanting to bring up what my parents did. "…graduation day?"

"I prefer to think of that day as, 'the day before my life became hell." I tell her.

She smiles. "Ok. What have you been doing since the day your life became hell?"

Reluctantly, I smile back at her. "Really, nothing. I had a job at the Nasty Burger, but lost it because the management told me I was 'too scary looking for other teens and or children to look at'." I put air quotes around that bastard's words.

Sam's silent for a moment then squeezes my hand. "I don't think you're scary looking."

I use my free hand to fiddle with my lip ring. "Not even with this thing?"

She smiles. "No. Not even with that thing."

I shrug and drop my hand back down into my lap.

"When did you get the tattoo?" She asks.

I swallow. "A while ago. I think about four months?"

"Hmm…"

I turn my neck so she can see it better.

"What does it mean?" She asks.

I face her again. "It's a symbol. Long ago, it was used as a sign of freedom."

Gently, I take my hand from hers and turn my neck back toward her.

I trace the outside of the tattoo. "But there's a cage around the symbol. It means that I'm not free. Not anymore."

I turn my face back toward her.

She stares at me, studying me. "Danny…"

I take a breath and wait for her to continue.

She shakes her head and takes my hand again. "You don't deserve the pain you're going through."

I shrug. "I've gotten used to it. The prison I'm in has become strangely comfortable."

She stares at me and I think she can tell I'm lying.

"How's the internship?" I ask.

"It's going good." She says. "It's going to be over in the summer."

"What are you going to do then?" I ask. I'm not asking her these questions to be polite the way I was with Kwan.

With Sam, I actually care.

"I've been offered a job at an up and coming record label." She smiles. "I'm thinking of taking it."

I smile. "That's great."

We stare at each other, neither of us really knowing what to say.

For six months I had things to say.

Now, I have nothing.

She inhales.

I roll my shoulders. "It's in New York?"

She nods. "Yeah. Not far from where I live."

I smile. "That's excellent. I'm glad for you."

"Danny, what about you?" She asks, giving my hand a squeeze again. "What are you going to do with your life?"

"Well, now that I don't have my ghost half, I can always apply to become an astronaut." I bite my lip. "But I don't think I'm going to do that."

She frowns. "Why not?"

I shrug. "I don't know. I'm not interested in it anymore."

She looks down at our intertwined fingers and rubs small circles in the back of my hand. "What are you interested in lately?"

"Nothing." I reply honestly.

She places a finger on the cuff of my long sleeved shirt. "What's with the sleeves?"

I shake my head and hesitantly pull my arm away from her. "I'm cold."

She looks up, worry in her eyes.

"I am." I respond.

She sighs and nods. "I know."

Sam leans back against the couch.

I try to think of something to say, anything to say.

But there's nothing left to say. I'm drained from today's events.

I lean back against the couch beside her.

She rests her head on my shoulder.

If I close my eyes, I can almost pretend that we're in the past. That we're spending the summer together and nothing that my parents did actually happened.

She links her arm through mine and gives a soft sigh.

Yes. Almost…


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Sooo...yeah. This is an update. What happened in 'Then' this chapter isn't what drove Danny and Sam apart. Yes, it does help to drive them apart but it's not what actually caused it. Anyway, let me know what you think in the reviews section. I hope you like! **

* * *

*Then*

The door swung open and Sam stood there.

"Danny." She breathed and ran toward me, dropping her backpack on the ground as she ran to me.

I wrapped my arms around her. "Hey, I'm ok. Everything's ok."

She buried her face in my chest and let out a soft cry.

I rubbed her back.

My mom exited the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

"Come on," I whispered to Sam, pulling her down into my lap.

She sniffled. "What did the doctor say?"

"He said I was fine. I've got a broken leg and a few bumps and bruises. Nothing major." I told her.

She breathed out. "Thank god."

I smiled. "I'm fine, ok?"

She nodded and wiped at her eyes. "And your parents?"

I frowned, slightly confused. "They're fine."

Curiously, she asked. "Are you guys talking again?"

"What?" I asked, completely confused.

"Well…you were just so mad at them the other day. I didn't think that you would be willing to talk to them so soon." She said.

I inhaled slowly. "What happened the other day?"

Her eyebrows drew down. "You don't remember?"

I shake my head. "No. What happened?"

"Danny-"

"Please, Sam. Everyone has been avoiding my questions. Will you please just tell me what happened?" I begged.

She took a breath and when she spoke again, she was whispering. "They took the Phantom from you."

My mouth fell open. "What?"

Immediately, I tried to change. Nothing happened.

My heart started beating faster.

"Danny, I'm sorry." Sam took my hand. "That's why I didn't want to be the one to tell you."

"No, that's not…they couldn't…why? How?" I asked, shocked.

"I'm so sorry." Sam kissed my cheek. "I'm so sorry."

My heart pounding was all I could hear.

No wonder I felt so empty.

"Danny, I'm here. You don't have to deal with this alone." She said.

I wasn't thinking clearly. I couldn't breathe.

"Get out." I hissed, clutching the hospital blanket in my fists.

She looked shocked. "Danny-"

"Go away." I snapped, squeezing my eyes closed.

"Danny, please-"

"Go!" I yelled as tears started to overwhelm me.

She was silent for a few minutes then I heard the door open and close again.

I opened my eyes.

She was gone.

I released the blanket and dropped my head into my hands, crying hard.

This pain was beyond anything I could have ever imagined.

It's like every bad thing that had ever happened to me, was happening all over again. All at once.

I couldn't cry enough tears to show how much pain I was in.

Nothing that I could say or do would ever prove to anyone how much I was hurting.

I grab ahold of my hair as I continue sobbing.

Why? That's all I would like to ask my parents. Why?

* * *

*Now*

**Sam's POV:**

"Come on in." He tells me.

"Thanks." I say, stepping through the doorway and into the house.

His hair is long and in his eyes, very unlike the Danny I used to know. His jet-black hair is streaked with an angry red color.

His lip ring and earrings are very unlike my Danny. I take a breath.

He's hurting, and he's broken. But underneath it all, he's still my Danny.

I turn toward the living room, not wanting him to think I'm staring at him.

My eyes glance around the room but my mind is still on Danny.

I hear him take a few steps toward me, so I turn around.

His gaze drops to the floor, then to his hands. He examines his fingernails, acting like he's interested in them.

But I can see his hands shaking.

What is he so scared of?

"Danny?" I call.

I intend to ask him what's wrong. To tell them that everything's going to be ok.

But he looks up at me. With his sad eyes, and lost expression…and all the air leaves my lungs.

I don't know what to say to him anymore.

I exhale.

We stare at each other. Both saying nothing.

"Sam." He finally responds.

I look at him. At the sadness in his eyes, and his limp posture. Like he doesn't care anymore.

Like he's only on this earth because he doesn't have the strength to take himself out.

I take a breath and look around.

The blue and orange couch is still where it used to be. Against one wall, across from the tv, adjacent to the matching armchair where Jazz used to sit and knit during her winter break.

I breathe in slowly and look back at Danny. "Come on, sit down."

"Ok." He replies and walks toward me.

We're so close I could reach out and touch him. Kiss him…

My knees feel weak and I sit down on the couch, breathing heavily.

He sits down across from me. "You look good."

Really? I look like crap.

I look at him. He's so different.

"You…" I hesitate, but say it anyway. "You've changed." It's the truth.

He inhales slowly and nods. "I have."

I ache to touch him. To have him in my arms and comfort him.

Without thinking twice, I reach across the couch and take his hand.

He looks down at our hands then slowly looks back up to me. His lonely blue eyes looking back into mine.

"I've missed you." I blurt out in a whisper, letting my eyelids fall closed.

Tears build up against my closed lids and I take a breath to calm myself.

He's quiet for a second and I think I've blown it.

Just as I'm about to take it back, he whispers it back.

"I've missed you too."

I breathe a sigh of relief and open my eyes, still whispering. "You don't know how many times I've wanted to call you."

"My phone number's still the same." He says flatly.

I tilt my head to one side.

Yeah?

"So is mine." I say clearly, all trace of whisper gone from my voice.

He sighs. "I know. I'm sorry. I just…I couldn't talk to you right away. It was too…"

"Painful?" I ask, feeling my heart constrict. I don't like the thought of him in pain. Physical or emotional.

"Yeah." He says quietly. "That."

He pushed me away, when he was hurting. He isolated himself, forcing him to deal with it all on his own.

"Danny, I have always been there for you. What made you think I wouldn't be then?" I ask.

He looks into my eyes, then drops his gaze to the couch.

Danny squeezes my hand. "I don't know."

He needs to hear this. And deep down, I need to say it.

"I cared about you then, and I care about you now." I say nervously.

He looks up and nods. "I know. I…I still care about you too."

I smile softly. "What have you been doing since…" I struggle to find the words, not wanting to bring up what his parents did. "…graduation day?"

"I prefer to think of that day as, 'the day before my life became hell." He tells me

I force myself to give him a smile. I hate to see him like this. "Ok. What have you been doing since the day your life became hell?"

He smiles back at me, but it looks forced. "Really, nothing. I had a job at the Nasty Burger, but lost it because the management told me I was 'too scary looking for other teens and or children to look at'." He puts air quotes around the last few words.

I stay silent for a minute as I look at him. I squeeze his hand. "I don't think you're scary looking."

He uses his other hand to fiddle with his lip ring. "Not even with this thing?"

I smiles. "No. Not even with that thing."

He shrugs and drops his hand back down into his lap.

"When did you get the tattoo?" I ask.

He swallows. "A while ago. I think about four months?"

I think about this. Only two months after I left. "Hmm…"

He turns his neck so I can see it better.

"What does it mean?" I ask curiously.

He faces me again. "It's a symbol. Long ago, it was used as a sign of freedom."

Gently, he takes his hand from me and turns his neck back toward me.

He traces the outside of the tattoo. "But there's a cage around the symbol. It means that I'm not free. Not anymore."

He looks back to me.

I stare at him, studying him. "Danny…"

He takes a breath and waits for me to continue.

I shake my head and take his hand again. "You don't deserve the pain you're going through."

He shrugs. "I've gotten used to it. The prison I'm in has become strangely comfortable."

I stare at him, wondering how he can sit across from me and blatantly lie like that.

"How's the internship?" He asks, attempting to distract me.

"It's going good." I say. "It's going to be over in the summer."

"What are you going to do then?" He asks, seeming genuinely interested.

"I've been offered a job at an up and coming record label." I smile, thinking about it. "I'm thinking of taking it."

He smiles. "That's great."

We stare at each other, neither of us really knowing what to say.

For six months I had things to say.

Now, I have nothing.

I inhale, trying to put together a coherent sentence.

He rolls his shoulders, wincing slightly. "It's in New York?"

What's in New York? Oh, right. The job.

I shake my head and nod. "Yeah. Not far from where I live."

He smiles again, looking sad. "That's excellent. I'm glad for you."

"Danny, what about you?" I ask, giving his hand a squeeze again. "What are you going to do with your life?"

"Well, now that I don't have my ghost half, I can always apply to become an astronaut." He bites his lip. "But I don't think I'm going to do that."

I frown. "Why not?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I'm not interested in it anymore."

I look down at our intertwined fingers and rub small circles in the back of his hand. "What are you interested in lately?"

"Nothing." He replies, sounding so broken and hollow.

My heart constricts.

Gently, I place a finger on the cuff of his long sleeved shirt. "What's with the sleeves?"

He pulls his arm away from me. "I'm cold."

I look up at him, worried.

"I am." He responds defensively.

I sigh and nod. "I know." I lean back against the couch.

I try to think of something to say, anything to say to distract him. He looks so tired and sad.

He leans back against the couch beside me.

Gently, I rest my head on his shoulder.

He doesn't say anything. He's lost in his own thoughts.

I link my arm through his and give a soft sigh. I wish I could help him. Reach him somehow.

But there's nothing left to do or say.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: So, a lot of people have been asking and yes. I am going to continue to tell the parts where Danny and Sam are together through both points of view. Because Danny says things that Sam has a inner reaction to and vice-versa. Anyways, just read this part and tell me what you think in the reviews. **

* * *

***Then***

The door opened. I looked up, tears running down my face.

My mother is standing there, fighting tears of her own.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I demanded, my words tumbling out over broken sobs.

"Danny, I-I wanted to. You-You don't know-"

I cut her off. "How could you do that to me?"

She gave a violent shudder and dropped her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

"Mom, that was a part of me!" I yelled.

"Danny, I never meant-"

"You destroyed him! You destroyed me!" I screamed, feeling it all wash over me again.

"Please, I love you so much. Please, f-"

"If you loved me, you wouldn't hurt me!" I yelled, dropping my head back into my hands, sobbing again.

"No, Danny." I heard her take a step toward me and I looked up again.

"Don't come near me."

She stopped and her shoulder dropped.

"I hate you." I spat.

The words were cruel and ugly. But they were true. And I wanted her to know it.

I wanted her to hurt the way I was hurting.

She bit her lip, crying softly. "Please. F-forgive me, Danny."

"Get out of here!" I yelled.

"Please-"

"Get. Out!"

She dropped her hands to her sides, and turned around.

"I'm so sorry, Danny." She whispered, pulling the door shut behind her.

* * *

***Now***

_**Danny's POV:**_

I slide my arm out of Sam's.

She stiffens and starts to pull away, but I wrap my arm around her and she relaxes again.

She lets out a gentle hum.

I rub her back gently.

She tucks her legs up onto the couch and snuggles into my arms.

This feels almost comfortable.

If they weren't so much history between us, this would feel great.

Inwardly sighing, I give Sam's back a final rub, pull away and stand up.

"I'm going to go make some coffee. Do you want some?"

She looks at me, looking like she already misses the closeness.

"Sure." She replies quietly.

I take a breath. "Why don't you come into the kitchen? We'll talk at the table."

"Ok." She says hesitantly.

I start for the kitchen.

"I'm going to use the bathroom, ok?" She asks. "I'll be right back."

"Sure." I reply with a shrug and walk into the kitchen.

She disappears up the stairs and into the bathroom.

I fill the coffee pot up with water and add the coffee grounds.

I set it to start making and set two coffee cups in front of it.

After I look around the kitchen, I notice a beer can under the cabinet. Frowning, I pick it up and toss it in the garbage can.

With a sigh, I settle down at the table.

Sam still isn't back yet, so I start playing with my phone.

I send a text to Jazz, asking her how she is.

She responds within a minute or two.

"I'm fine." She says.

A text comes through a few minutes later.

"R U still going to ur appt. tomorrow?"

I sigh and rake my fingers through my hair.

Hesitantly, I respond.

'Maybe.'

I hear the bathroom door open and Sam begins descending the staircase.

Jazz sends me another text. 'Danny, please just think about it, ok? Just go once. If you don't like it, you don't have to go again. Ok?'

I sigh and respond. 'Fine.'

Sam steps into the kitchen. "Hey…"

"Hey." I respond, and turn my phone's screen over.

It vibrates on the table.

Sam looks at me. "Who's that?"

"My sister." I tell her. "It's fine, don't worry about it."

She nods and sits down across from me.

This is even more awkward than it was on the couch.

"Um…" I scratch the back of my head.

"I have some questions." She says.

I drop my hand back onto the table. "Ok. Shoot."

She breathes in slowly. "Don't get mad at her, ok?"

I frown. "Who?"

"Your sister." She says.

I take a breath uneasily. "Ok…"

She fiddles with the bracelets on her wrists. "She called me. The night that you…"

My heart stops. "The night that I…?"

She looks up at me. "Did you really take the whole bottle of pills?"

I let out a breath slowly. "Did she tell you that?"

"Danny, did you?" She questions, her voice quiet.

I bite my lip and slowly nod. "Yes…I did."

She looks back down at the table, nodding gently.

After a few minutes of silence, Sam looks back up at me. "And the car crash last month?"

I shake my head. "No. That one was an accident."

She breathes a sigh of relief. "Have you ever done it again?"

I bite my lip. "Done what?"

"Attempted suicide." She whispers, her voice pinched, words tight.

I scratch my jaw with the flat surface of my fingernail, thinking back to two months ago.

The slitting of my wrists. The pain. All the blood.

I squeeze my eyes closed.

If I lied, she might eventually find out. If I told the truth, she might ask more questions about it.

"Danny?" She whispers.

"No."

I decided to go with the lie.

I open my eyes.

She relaxes and I convince myself that I made the right choice.

"Danny, I was so worried when I got that phone call from Jazz." She whispers, closing her eyes.

I swallow hard.

"I almost got on a plane." She says, opening her eyes.

"Why didn't you?" I ask.

She breathes out. "I remembered how angry you got with me the last time I showed up to the hospital…and I decided not to. Jazz kept me updated."

I look away from her. "You didn't miss much. They pumped my stomach. Did other kinds of doctor shit."

She sighs and I look back at her.

"Danny, please."

"Please what?" I question.

She shakes her head. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"One minute you're angry with me, and the next you're not. What's going on?" She asks again.

I shrug.

Honestly, I chalked moodiness up to my depression. Anger is a part of depression, right?

"I don't know." I say flatly.

She breathes out, nervously.

Whispering, she says it. "You just seem so…broken."

I lean forward and whisper it back.

"I am."


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Ok readers, you know what I'm going to say. Please let me know what you think in the reviews. :P Also, my birthday is tomorrow so I may not update tomorrow. It may be a few days before I write again. :P I don't know, we'll see. **

* * *

*Then*

Days passed, and I called my sister.

I told her everything they had done. How they took it from me and how angry dad was.

She worked everything out with the hospital and I was discharged to her.

For the next few days, I stayed at Jazz's place.

She didn't ask a whole lot of questions, and right then that was just what I needed.

Someone who would put up with me without asking anything of me.

It's not like I could help out a whole lot anyway. My leg was broken and my shoulder was messed up from the crash.

A few weeks of living with my sister passed and she came to talk to me one day.

"Danny?" She asked, stepping into the living room where I was currently sitting on the couch, watching the television.

I turned the volume down and looked at her. "Yeah?"

She brushed a piece of lint off her shirt. "I've got to go run some errands. Will you be all right here by yourself?"

I nodded. "Sure."

"Ok. I'm expecting a package today and they might ring the doorbell. So can you get that for me?" She asked, digging around inside her purse.

I nodded. "Sure thing, sis."

She smiled at me. "Ok, great. Thanks." She exited the living room and shortly after exited her apartment.

I flipped the channel a few times but didn't really find anything interesting. I wandered into the kitchen and ate half a peanut butter and banana sandwich.

Try as I might, my appetite wasn't the same. I figured it was because the Phantom was gone from me.

Every time I thought of that, my heart constricted and I was hit by a wave of sadness.

There had been days where I didn't crawl out of bed all day long. I lied to my sister about the reasoning behind it.

"Oh I have a headache." Or "I'm just not feeling well."

"I need some time to myself." "I'm not feeling up to facing the day."

But I'm pretty sure she knew the truth. I was battling depression.

We both knew it.

I finished my sandwich off with a glass of milk just as the doorbell rang.

"That should be the package." I said to myself as I grabbed my crutches and stood up from the table.

I limped to the door and opened it, expecting to see a mailman.

What met me was my girlfriend. Sam.

She was standing there with her arms crossed and glaring at me.

"Sam…" All the air left my lungs.

"Can I come in?" She asked, and without waiting for me to respond, stepped through the doorway.

"Um…sure." I replied and kicked the door shut using my crutch.

She stopped in the foyer and turned around to glare at me. "Why haven't you called me?"

I exhaled heavily. "Sam, it's not that simple."

"Of course it is. All you have to do is pick up the damn phone." She snapped, her hands going to her hips.

I took a breath. "Why don't we sit down?"

"No. I don't want to sit down. I want an answer." She said.

"I've been busy." I said.

"Danny, I leave in two days. And I haven't heard a word from you since that day in the hospital." She said.

"I'm sorry." I replied.

"Are you angry with me? Because I didn't do anything to you. I just told you the truth. And-"

"I'm not angry with you." I said, interrupting her.

She sighed. "Then why haven't you called me?"

I shrugged. "After how I treated you...I didn't think you would want to see me."

She shook her head. "Sometimes I don't understand you."

"I'm sorry." I replied.

She groaned. "I don't want an 'I'm sorry', Danny."

"Then what do you want?" I asked hesitantly.

"I want you to talk to me." She whispered, taking a step closer to me.

"About what?" I asked, my own voice quiet.

"Everything. Don't shut me out." She begged.

"Sam, I don't want to talk about it. Talking only makes it worse." I told her.

She closed the distance between us and slid her hands up to my chest.

"Danny, please." She whispered. "I need to know what happened that day. I know there's something you're not telling me."

I pushed her away. "Don't."

Her hands fell to her sides. "Please."

"Don't ask questions that you won't be able to handle the answer to." I whispered.

"I can handle it." She replied in a whisper. "Just tell me."

I closed my eyes. "No."

"I care about you." She said. "Let me in."

I opened my eyes.

Firmer this time. "No."

Her face fell and she turned her back to me.

I knew that she was hurt by my decision to keep the truth from her, but the truth wasn't even something I could handle.

There was no way I could repeat what my parents had done to me.

Not in the brutal sense she wanted it.

* * *

*Now*

**Sam's POV:**_  
_

Danny slides his arm out of mine and I pull away, on the verge of apologizing.

But he wraps his arm around my shoulders and I relax.

I tuck my legs up onto the couch and snuggle into his arms.

He rubs my back gently.

I close my eyes and relax in his arms, feeling utterly at ease with him.

I'm not sure how long we stay that way, but all too soon, he pulls away.

He stands up. "I'm going to go make some coffee. Do you want some?"

I look up at him, just wanting to be near him again.

"Sure." I reply.

He takes a breath. "Why don't you come to the kitchen? We'll talk at the table."

"Ok." I tell him.

He turns around and starts for the kitchen.

I stand up, straightening my shirt. "I'm going to use the bathroom. I'll be there in a second."

"Sure." He replies with a shrug and walks into the kitchen.

I climb the staircase and step into the bathroom, turning the light on.

After I use the bathroom, I realize there's no soap on the counter. I check in the cabinet under the sink and discover a mess.

Bloodied tissues and razors are strewn under the sink. My heart drops.

Bandage wrappers and unused bandages are under the sink as well.

I sigh softly. "Oh, Danny…"

Of course he would turn to that. Why wouldn't he? He's miserable.

Off in the corner is a soap dispenser that's filled almost all the way.

I pull it out and set it on the counter.

After I wash my hands, I quietly creak the door open and turn the light out.

Briefly, I check to make sure that he isn't coming up the stairs. Or checking to make sure I'm in the bathroom.

Once I'm sure that he's still downstairs, I dash across the landing and into his bedroom.

I doubt he'd invite me up here so I have to see it for myself.

When I first turn the light on, I'm surprised by how much it's changed. His room is nothing like it was six months ago.

His walls are completely bare, save for one photo. Of the two of us.

My heart aches. I miss him so badly. He was my whole world. He was my everything.

I don't know how anyone expected me to move on and let it go.

I hear Danny drop something in the kitchen and my heart skips a beat. I'd better leave his bedroom before he realizes that I'm snooping around.

Just in case he's listening, I walk back over to the bathroom and creak the door open again.

I walk down the stairs and enter the kitchen.

Danny's sitting at the table, his phone on the table in front of him.

"Hey." I say softly, realizing how much I'm hurting for him.

"Hey." He replies as his phone vibrates on the table. He turns the screen over.

Curiously, I ask. "Who's that?"

"My sister. Don't worry about it." He says.

I nod and sit down across from him.

We look at each other, both listening to the awkward silence.

He scratches the back of the door, looking like he's trying to come up with something to say. "Um…"

"I have some questions." I say, breaking the silence.

Danny drops his hand back onto the table. "Ok. Shoot."

I take a breath slowly. "Don't get mad at her, ok?"

He frowns. "Who?"

"Your sister." I reply hesitantly.

He takes a breath looking like he couldn't be more uncomfortable if I asked him to sit on a bed of hot coals. "Ok…"

I play with the bracelets on my wrists, giving myself enough time to figure out how to say it. "She called me. The night that you…"

He's quiet when he asks. "The night that I…?"

I looks up at him, barely breathing. "Did you really take the whole bottle of pills?"

He exhales. "Did she tell you that?"

"Danny, did you?" I question, my voice quiet, filled with fear.

He bites his lip and slowly nods. "Yes…I did."

I look back down at the table, nodding gently. Trying to understand.

Even though every fiber in me is aching to scream at him. To tell him that he ever attempted it again, I would…

What would I do to him?

I look back up at him. "And the car crash last month?"

He shakes his head. "No, that one was an accident. Honest."

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Have you ever done it again?"

He bites his lip, hesitating before answering. "Done what?"

"Attempted suicide." I whisper, my blood pounding in my ears, heart in my throat.

He scratches his jaw with the flat surface of his fingernail, quiet.

I watch him carefully, trying to control my breathing.

He squeezes his eyes closed.

He's hurting. But he won't let me in. I try to wait him out, but it feels like it's been years since he spoke.

"Danny?" I whisper urgently.

"No."

He opens his eyes.

I relax slightly, trying to make him believe that I believe that lie.

"Danny, I was so worried when I got that phone call from Jazz." I whisper, closing my eyes.

"I almost got on a plane." I say, opening my eyes.

"Why didn't you?" He asks.

I breathe out. "I remembered how angry you got with me the last time I showed up to the hospital…and I decided not to. Jazz kept me updated."

That sounds so pathetic and full of excuses when I say it out loud.

He looks away from me. "You didn't miss much. They pumped my stomach. Did other kinds of doctor shit."

I sigh audibly and he looks back at me.

"Danny, please."

"Please what?" He questions.

I shake my head. This is not the Danny I knew and loved. Love. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" He asks.

"One minute you're angry with me, and the next you're not. What's going on?" I ask again, feeling exhausted.

"I don't know." He says flatly, shrugging.

I breathe out, nervously.

Whispering, I finally say it. The words I've been thinking since he first opened the door.

"You just seem so…broken."

He leans forward, whispering his response.

"I am."

My heart breaks.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Readers, I apologize profusely for not writing until now -_- I had writers block and I started PhannieMay at the beginning of the month and then fell behind about a week ago, worked my butt off catching up and now :P Anyways though, I will try not to take a century to write again. For now, enjoy this installment. **

**Please don't throw sticks at me. I really am sorry for the lengthy wait. **

* * *

***Then***

"Sam, please don't be angry." I called.

Her back was to me but I could tell she was warring with herself.

Part of her wanted to turn around and talk to me. But the other part of her was convinced that the silent treatment would make me tell her the truth.

"Come on, Sam. Please talk to me." I said.

She shook her head, her silence an act of defiance.

I sighed and started walking to the kitchen, planning to just wait her out.

I hadn't even stepped a foot in when she called my name.

"Danny, wait!" She called.

I turned around. Her eyes were rimmed red and she had tears streaming down her face.

"Please...just tell me the truth." She whispered.

"Sam, I can't. I haven't even told my sister all the details." I said.

"That's why I'm asking you. Please, just let me in." She replied.

I took a breath.

Truthfully? I wanted to let her in. I wanted her to know that I was hurting. That I felt so alone...

But I couldn't put her through that. I knew that she would decide to stay in Amity Park so she could be with me in my "time of need".

I didn't want that kind of guilt.

So I had to make her angry.

"No. Why the hell would I tell you anyway?"

She looked taken aback. "Because I'm your girlfriend and I care about you."

I scoffed. "Do you know how many times people have said that to me? It only takes a second to realize they're lying."

She crossed her arms defiantly. "I'm not."

"I'm so sure." I responded sarcastically.

I had to make her hurt. I needed her to go. I couldn't keep her here with me. That was too selfish.

"Danny, I don't know why you're acting like this-"

I cut her off.

"Don't you get it? I don't want you anymore." I snapped. "I mean, you were a good screw but that's it. We're done."

Her mouth fell open. "Danny…"

I crossed my arms as I felt my heart break. This was harder than I thought it would be.

This was almost too hard.

But I tightened my hands into fists, knowing I had to convince her.

"Danny, you don't mean that. I know you're going through a lot, but please. Let me in. I can help you." She said.

"You can't do anything." I snapped. "You're nothing to me. I got what I wanted from you. I was just waiting for you to leave town before I hooked up with some other girl."

She flinched like I'd made a move to hit her.

For a minute, I thought she was going to speak, but she burst into tears.

I almost ran to her. Almost comforted.

Almost.

But I looked away instead. She needed to leave. She had so much life ahead of her. I would not let myself be the dead weight around her neck dragging her down.

I would not hold her back from her life.

"You should go." I said, turning my back to her, heading into the kitchen.

I walked into the kitchen and waited about two minutes before I heard the door close behind her.

It was done. She would never want to see me again. That was what I wanted…so why did I feel so miserable?

* * *

***Now***

Danny's POV:

Sam sits across from me, slowly stirring a spoon in her coffee mug.

I swallow mine slowly, letting it warm my throat as it goes down.

She looks up and I meet her gaze.

There's so much between us. So much we haven't said. So much we need to say.

I open my mouth and start to say something. Something to explain my behavior six months ago.

But I know that if I attempt to explain now, it'll only upset her. And I believe it's better if we both move on.

I have no reason to bring her back here. Especially after she was just offered that new job.

Sam exhales.

We both have something to say. But neither one of us is willing to talk. We're both waiting the other out.

Honestly? I've had a lot of practice at being silent. I could out-last her.

But she looks uncomfortable. And I'm the one who invited her here.

So I crack first.

"Sam?" I ask softly, my voice quiet.

She looks relieved that one of us is talking. "Yeah?"

I swallow hard. "I'm really sorry. About…everything."

She opens her mouth, then closes it and lets her gaze fall back down to her coffee mug. She shrugs one shoulder.

"Don't worry about it."

I exhale and prop my elbow up onto the table.

She looks up. "Can I ask you something?"

I nod slowly. I have a distinct feeling I won't want to answer what she's going to ask.

"Will you be honest with me?" She asks.

I swallow and nod. "Of course."

She slowly stirred her coffee, not looking at me. "I found some…razors in the bathroom."

My heart starts beating faster. She found them? Where? I thought I kept most of them in my bedroom.

"Sam, I…I can explain." I rack my brains for a reason why I would have razors.

She looks up.

I swallow. "Shaving."

She gives me a look. She doesn't believe me.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. How can I explain away what I'm doing to my body? How can I communicate to her that I'm in too much pain to not do it at this point?

She'll never understand.

Sam exhales. "Danny, I really care about you, okay? And you've always been honest with me before. But we both know that what you just said is pure bullshit."

I swallow. Like I said, I've always been able to lie to my friends and family. But not Sam. She's always been able to see right through me.

"Please. Just be honest with me." She says.

I clear my throat and take a long hot swallow of my coffee.

She watches me as I set the mug back down on the table.

"Okay. Fine. You've got me." My palms are sweaty. I can barely breathe but I force the words out. "I've been cutting myself for almost five months now."

I watch her for a reaction, praying that she won't be disgusted by it.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: My fellow readers! A lot of you are leaving reviews about how I repeat the scene from Danny's POV to Sam's POV is getting a little old because I'm just repeating the same scene. I agree. Totally. :P That's why I'm cutting it out. From now on, I'll begin the scene where I left off in the last character's POV. I may back up and do a few lines of the previous scene, but the scene will continue past where the other scene ended. **

**If that makes any sense at all. If not, just read this part and see what I mean. Please review and let me know what you think of this chapter. Reviews make me very happy. :)**

* * *

_*Then*_

Days passed. Sam left for her internship. I didn't call her and she didn't call me.

Days turned to weeks and not a word was spoken between the two of us. My sister's return to college was coming up fast.

I figured she would kick me out as soon as college started back.

That's why I wasn't surprised when she came to talk to me with only two weeks left in August.

"Danny?" She called down the stairs.

"I'm in the kitchen!" I called back, turning the bacon over in the frying pan.

As soon as my leg healed, I took over cooking for the time being. I might as well being doing something useful.

"I wanted to talk to you." Jazz said, stepping into the dining room.

I met her eyes briefly before looking back at the bacon.

"Yes?"

"I just…" She paused, fidgeting with a bracelet on her wrist.

I flipped the bacon again.

Oh yeah. This was it. Jazz was definitely here to kick me out.

I should've said something to make the conversation easier on her.

But she was the one doing the kicking out. Why should I care about making it easier for her?

I flipped the bacon again and looked at my sister. "Yes?"

She swallowed. "Is that almost done? We can probably talk while we eat."

I gritted my teeth.

Just say it. Get it over with.

"It's probably going to take a little bit on the rest of the food. We can talk now though." I turned around, resting the spatula on the edge of the frying pan.

Jazz fidgeted. "I'll wait."

I clenched my hands into fists behind my back. "Why? You can just tell me now."

Get. It. Over. With.

"It's fine. I'll wait." She turned around and walked out of the kitchen, leaving me shaking my head.

I turned around with a bit of a growl, snatching the spatula up.

I didn't get why she couldn't just tell me. We both knew it was coming.

_'Danny, I'm kicking you out. You've been nothing but a pain in my ass for the past month and a half. Sorry to do this this way, but it happens. Oh, and you can always come visit me for Christmas.'_

That would work. I could take that. We both knew it was coming.

So why couldn't she just get it over with?

* * *

_*Now*  
_

**Sam's POV:  
**_  
_

I slowly stir my coffee. "I found some…razors in the bathroom."

His breathing quickens. I almost want to tell him nevermind. That he doesn't have to explain.

But I have to press him about this. If he's doing this to himself, he needs to talk to someone.

"Sam, I…I can explain." He says, breathing hard.

I look up.

"Shaving." He says, barely able to hold my gaze.

I give him a look. Does he honestly think that I can't tell when he's lying?

His hands disappear under the table for a minute, then he brings them back up, wringing his hands nervously, trying not to look at me.

I exhale. "Danny, I really care about you, okay? And you've always been honest with me before. But we both know that what you just said is pure bullshit."

He swallows.

"Please. Just be honest with me." I plead.

He clears his throat and busies himself by taking a sip of coffee.

I watch him as he sets the mug back down on the table.

"Okay. Fine. You've got me." He says, his every word a struggle. "I've been cutting myself for almost five months now."

His gaze flits up to mine, fear in his eyes.

I take a breath. I knew that was the truth. That was what I was waiting for.

So why did it hurt me so much to hear him say it out loud? Admittance/Acceptance was the first step in getting help.

Slowly, I slide my hand across the table and touch his wrist. "May I see?"

His fingers shake as he rolls up the sleeve of his shirt.

Scars, cuts and bandages crisscross their way up his arm, disappearing into the rest of his shirt sleeve.

I trace one of his scars, whispering. "Does it still hurt?"

He shakes his head. "No."

I look up to him, holding his gaze, my finger still gently tracing his scars.

He bites his lip. "Sam, I…I'm really sorry. I didn't even-"

"Don't apologize." I whisper.

I wish we were closer. Touching each other.

I reach my other hand out and touch his face.

He closes his eyes, looking like he's struggling between pain and comfort.

"It's okay." I whisper, running my thumb along his cheekbone.

Oh how I wish that that simple gesture were enough to chase away all the pain he feels.

His eyes open again, his gaze downcast.

Danny pulls his arm away from me and rolls his sleeve back down.

I bite my lip. "Danny-"

He pushes my hand off his face. "I can't do this yet."

"Do what?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Pretend." He responds, standing up, grabbing his coffee mug off the table. "I'm not like you. I can't forget everything that's happened between us."

He turns his back to me, fiddling with the coffee machine.

"I haven't forgotten." I respond quietly.

He turns around quickly, an unreadable expression on his face. "You have!"

I'm not sure how to respond. I don't even know what he means. I open my mouth but no words spring to my brain.

"If you hadn't forgotten you wouldn't be here right now!" He exclaimed, his voice rising.

Slowly, I stand up, making sure not to make any sudden movements.

"What do you mean?" I ask, keeping my voice quiet.

"You-you wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't forgotten what happened. You wouldn't be touch- touching me." He shakes his head, near hyper-ventilation now.

I move from the table to him in a matter of seconds.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"You're supposed to hate me!" He exclaims, his hands going to his hair, clutching at it like he's holding on for dear life.

"Danny, I don't hate you. I lo-"

"Don't." His eyes close. "Don't say it."

"I love you." I whisper, putting a hand on the side of his face again, my other hand on his waist.

He forms his hands into fists, dropping them from his hair and pressing them against his eyes.

"No." He whispers.

I move my hand on his waist to his lower back, pulling him closer to me. "It's okay, Danny."

A small sob escapes him. "No…please…"

"I'm right here." I whisper, pulling him against me, forcing him to accept the embrace.

He collapses against me, crying softly, his hands gripping my sweater tightly.

I rub his back. "No, shh. It's okay."

Gently, I run my fingers through his hair wondering when the last time he let someone hug him was.

Danny is not the same person he was before I left for New York.

He's different. Sad. Broken.


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Woo! Here it is, guys! another update! :D I'm already looking forward to editing this story xD I'm such a nerd. :P Anyways, please tell me what you think of this chapter in the reviews section. Reviews make me VERY happy so please? :D Enjoy!**

* * *

_*Then*_

"Jazz!" I called up the stairs. "Dinner's ready!"

_And now you can get this over with_. I silently added.

She told me that she she'd wash up and be right down.

I divided the food between the two of us.

Our plates were crammed with eggs, biscuits, bacon, pancakes, hash brown casserole, and sausages.

I fixed us both some water to drink and placed the salt and syrup on the table.

Just after I'd sat down at the table, Jazz came down the stairs.

"Hey." She said softly, taking a seat across from me.

I didn't know what to say. I wanted her to get it over with it, but at the same time, I didn't want her to tell me to leave.

"Dig in." I told her, cramming a sausage link into my mouth.

She was hesitant, but she started eating.

"Oh yeah, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?" I asked as casually as I could.

"Danny…" She trailed off, looking nervous.

Her gaze met mine and my fingers fumbled, dropping a piece of bacon back onto my plate.

Before I could stop myself, I'd already begun to beg her.

"Jazz, please. I have nowhere to go and-and I'm not sure if mom and dad will put up with me. Please, don't kick me out. I'll do anything. I meant it, anything. You just tell me and I'll do it. I swear. You don't even have to explain why you want me to do it, just tell me. I'll do it, I swear. Please." I swallowed past the lump in my throat, stopping only to catch my breath.

I felt like a little child for being upset that my sister wanted me out of her hair.

Jazz held up a hand, looking utterly confused.

"What are you talking about, little brother?" She asked.

I took a breath. "Isn't that…what you were going to say?" I asked.

She slowly shook her head. "No. Not even close."

I relaxed. "Really?"

"Yes." She responded. "You're my brother, Danny. I'd never kick you out."

I exhaled. Hopeful, I repeated the question back to her.

"You're not kicking me out?"

"No." She shook her head again. "I'm not."

I completely relaxed and started eating again.

Although I knew there was no way I'd be able to digest all this food, I was hungry enough to make a serious dent.

"Oh." I responded quietly, in between moist bites of pancake.

"That's what you were worried about?" Jazz asked me, sympathy written all over her face.

I gave a sheepish nod, embarrassed. Somewhere along the way, I figured that everyone would eventually turn on me.

"What would you have done had I really planned on kicking you out?" My sister asked.

"Beg." I managed between mouthfuls of eggs and hash brown casserole.

She gave me a small smile. "You were very convincing."

Her sarcasm wasn't lost on me.

I returned her smile, jokingly. "I know, right?"

She uttered a small laugh.

I was so relieved at the realization that she wasn't kicking me out, that I almost forgot that she wanted to talk to me at all.

"Umm…" She cleared her throat, fidgeting nervously. She'd barely touched her food.

I took a deep breath. "If you're not kicking me out…then what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Don't get mad, okay?" She asked.

I bit my lip. I could tell already that this conversation was not going to be pleasant.

"I've been looking into…therapists in our location." She said, finally meeting my gaze.

I remained silent for a few minutes. "What do you mean?"

"For you." She replied. "I…I want you to see someone, Danny. Someone you can talk to and help you deal with everything you've been going through lately."

I frowned. "I used to see a therapist, remember?"

"Yes, I remember. And why you quit seeing him is beyond me." She replied.

"I'm not interested in talking about my problems any more. It doesn't do anything." I snapped, breathing hard.

This conversation was already making me angrier than I'd felt in a long time.

There was no way I was going to let some therapist proke and prod around inside my mind.

"Danny, can't you give it one more chance?" She asked.

I shook my head. "No. I hate talking about it over and over again."

She took a breath. "Please, just one session."

I gave her a pitiful look. "Please, Jazz. It hurts too much to talk about."

Maybe if I softened her up, made her remember to pity me, she might change her mind.

She steeled herself, shaking her head again. "Exactly, Danny. It hurts for you talk about everything that's happened because you don't ever talk about it."

I started to respond but she talked over me.

"Even if it's just one session, I think it might help you. Come on, little brother, please. What do you have to lose?" She asked.

"My dignity." I spat.

She sighed. "Seriously. Come on. Please?"

"No." I replied. "I don't want to."

"Can't you please just try?" She asked.

I shook my head and stood up. I walked over to the trash can and raked the rest of my food into it.

Suddenly, I didn't have an appetite anymore.

I set my plate and fork into the sink and walked over to the table to get my glass of water.

"Danny? Will you at least give it some thought?" She asked.

I shrugged. "Fine. I'll think about it."

She gave me a small smile as I drained the water from my glass.

I set it back down on the table with a bang, startling my sister.

For some reason, I got a sick sort of pleasure from her reaction.

"I've thought about it. My answer's still no." I responded with a bit of a snarl to my words.

Still relishing her reaction, I turned on my heel and exited the room, leaving Jazz behind to ponder at my actions.

* * *

_*Now*_

**Danny's POV:**

I turn my back to Sam, fiddling with the coffee machine – taking longer than it normally would take.

"I haven't forgotten." She says from behind me.

My heart jumps and I turn around.

The words rip their way out of my throat.

"You have!"

She doesn't say anything. Just watches me with a curious expression on her face.

I try to stop myself but I've held onto the words and thoughts too long.

"If you hadn't forgotten you wouldn't be here right now!" I exclaim, breathing hard.

I'm so absorbed in my own memories that I don't even notice she's stood up until she takes a small step toward me.

"What do you mean?" She asks.

"You-you wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't forgotten what happened. You wouldn't be touch- touching me." I shake my head, completely lost. There's no reason why she would forgive me.

I don't deserve. I don't deserve anything.

I'm almost hyper-ventilating now.

She moves from the table to me in a matter of seconds, crossing the room like it's nothing.

"What are you talking about?" She asks, stopping a few inches from me.

"You're supposed to hate me!" I yell. Why doesn't she understand me? I ball my hands up into fists and pull at clumps of my hair. I need any sort of pain or discomfort to get my breathing under control.

"Danny, I don't hate you. I lo-"

"Don't." I snap my eyes closed. She doesn't mean it. My hands shake as tears form under my lids. "Don't say it."

"I love you." She whispers, putting a hand on the side of my face again, her other hand sliding onto my waist.

After everything I did to her…after everything I said to her…does she still mean it?

I ball my hands into fists and press them against my eyelids.

"No." I whisper, trying to stem the flow of tears that are threatening to betray me and show her my weakness.

She moves the hand on my waist to my lower back, pulling me closer to her. "It's okay, Danny."

A small sob escapes me. "No…please…" My own body has betrayed me, I think as tears run down my face.

"I'm right here." She tells me, pulling me against her body, forcing me to accept the embrace.

All at once, I realize how much I've missed my Sam. How much I need her affection.

I give in and collapse against her. My tears flowing freely now, my hands gripping her sweater tightly.

Her hands gently rub my back. "No, shh. It's okay."

Sam runs her fingers through my hair, humming softly to me – attempting to soothe me.

"I care about you so much, Danny." She whispers, kissing my cheek gently.

Suddenly, I pull away and press my lips to hers.

Our tongues mingle together, speaking strange passions – which only we understand.

She pulls away, breathing hard. "Danny-"

"I'm sorry." I avoid her gaze, my own breathing labored.

I can still feel the hot tears spilling down my cheeks and realize that I must look like a mess to her.

"I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry." I whisper.

"No." She whispers urgently, turning my face back toward her. "Don't say you're sorry."

Her lips meet mine again, and I let my eyes close.

She runs her hands down my back and I run my fingers through her hair, feeling her hairband drop out of her hair and hit the floor.

She groans slightly and breaks away from the kiss long enough to attempt to pull my shirt off.

I try to stop her but it's too late. She's already seeing the scars and fresh cuts that line my stomach and chest.

Slowly, I raise my arms and allow her to pull the shirt off all the way. Might as well do this now…

Her gaze meets mine, her eyes filled with hurt.

_Why is she still hurting for me? After everything I've done to her. After everything I've said…why?_


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Thanks readers, for hanging on for this. I would like to apologize in advance for the cliff-hanger this one ends on. I promise, next chapter will be a bit cheerier. *coughs* that's a lie I don't write happy Danny. ever. *coughs* Please review this chapter to let me know your thoughts on it. **

* * *

_*Then*_

"It's been a long time."

My throat was dry. "It has."

He took a breath. "Do you know how long?"

I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans, keeping my eyes on the floor.

I couldn't remember how many days I'd sat in this office – talking about nothing until hours had passed, and we both had to go home.

"Almost three months…sir." I added nervously.

I wasn't nervous then. I loved staying after hours with him. We talked as easily as if we'd known each other for years.

"Danny." He called, his voice gentle.

Some days were incredibly easy. I used to feel so at ease in his presence. And some days were harder. He'd help me through it. Talk me through everything.

"Danny." He called again, his voice low. Sad.

I looked up into James' eyes. James Knight, my therapist.

He stared back at me, his eyes kind. His eyebrows were drawn down. He looked sad for me.

I looked away.

"I thought we got past that. 'Sir' isn't a requirement in this office." He said.

I took a deep breath.

"Why don't you tell me what's been going on? This is the first time your sister has called me since your car accident." His voice was low when he finished the sentence.

My head whipped up and I met his eyes. "What? When-When did she tell you about the car accident?"

His eyebrows drew down. "Right after it happened."

My chest constricted. "Why…why didn't you come see me?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew that I shouldn't have asked it. He didn't want to come see me because I'm just a client to him.

"I'm sorry." I said instantly. "I shouldn't have said that."

"No." He said, scooting his chair closer to me. "I did come to see you."

I let out a breath. "What?"

"Your parents turned me away, Danny. I figured that you would explain why when you came to see me the next week." He said hesitantly.

I swallowed hard. "I…I didn't know. No one told me."

He took a deep breath. "I figured not."

I bit my lip.

"Why did your sister call me?" He asked.

I gave a small shrug. "I don't know…I guess she wanted to keep you updated. I mean, a car accident is a pretty big deal."

He shook his head. "No. I meant today. She arranged an appointment for you. Last one of the day."

Oh.

"Cause she wants to force me to talk." I snapped, hating the way that my words sounded so harsh.

"Why's that?"

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "She thinks I have issues."

He waited. He wanted me to continue talking.

I took a deep breath. "Do you remember that ghost hero, Danny Phantom?"

My own breathing sounded loud in my ears.

Curiously, my therapist responded. "Yes…I do."

I swallowed and dropped my voice to a whisper. "Sometimes…sometimes I pretended to be him."

James didn't respond right away.

I took a breath and continued. "When…when he disappeared, I guess…an important part of me did too."

My therapist exhaled. "Why did you pretend to be him?"

I shrugged. "Sometimes…it was easier than dealing with the nightmares."

I chanced a look at his face. He was staring at me like he didn't understand why I was in so much pain.

And unless I told him the truth, he never would.

But the truth wasn't something I was ready to deal with. So for now, my therapist would be left in the dark.

"I was helping you with your nightmares, Danny. Why did you feel the need to pretend to be a superhero?"

I squeezed my eyes closed, already feeling tears forming in my eyes. I tried to sound strong when I spoke, but my voice cracked – giving me away. "Because superhero's are tough. They don't get scared because of nightmares."

I often laid in bed in my Phantom form because the light from my ghostly half illuminated the room and then I didn't feel so alone.

I could have always turned the light on but I didn't want to arouse suspicion with my parents. What senior student sleeps with his bedroom light on?

"Danny, superhero's aren't real." He said calmly. "Children and even some teens often look up to superhero's as a way to deal with things. They idolize superhero's because they're seemingly perfect. They don't get scared, they don't get tired, they don't hurt, they don't bleed, they don't give up…but that's the thing, Danny. No one like that really exists in this world. They're pretend. And you have to learn to draw your strength from real things or real people. You have to realize that you can beat this – without the help of a superhero."

I swallowed and opened my eyes, turning my gaze to him. "Danny Phantom was real."

_I was him._

My therapist returned my gaze and spoke calmly again. "The only evidence of him that I've seen is some grainy photos and random newspaper clippings."

I took a breath and chanced it. "I met him."

His eyebrows went up. "What?"

I nodded. "When I was about…fourteen?" I pretended to think. "Back before Amity Park knew his name."

My therapist nodded, genuinely interested in what I was saying.

I exhaled heavily. "Yeah…he was great. Just the kind of superhero you'd imagine. He was kind…and he never wanted me to feel alone."

"Did he ever speak to you after the whole town knew who he was?" James asked me.

I nodded as more tears sprang to my eyes. This time I made no move to wipe them away. "Yeah. He came to me sometimes, talking about random stuff. He might have been a ghostly superhero but he was lonely too. And-And we talked, we didn't feel so alone anymore. Not together."

The tears fell down my cheeks and I took in a ragged breath.

"He-"

I cut my therapist off. "He died. June fifth."

I didn't have to look at my therapist to know that he was shocked. I heard it in his voice.

"What?"

I swallowed. "I was there. I watched the life drain from his eyes." Okay. Maybe I didn't *see* it. But I sure as hell felt it.

"Danny…why didn't you tell me this?"

I took a breath as the tears continued to stream down my face. "Because. It was right before my car accident. I-I didn't want to see anyone. I didn't want to talk to anyone about it. No one even knew that we knew each other."

He's quiet when he responds. "Is that why you're so depressed lately? Your sister expressed her concern to me. She believes you're depressed."

I gave a small scoff. "Yeah. Sounds like Jazz."

"Are you?"

I wiped at my face. "Yeah. I guess."

"Danny, you can heal from this. I know that what you're experiencing right now is grief. You're feeling alone and scared and I'm sorry. But if you continue seeing me, I can help you move past this." He said, leaning forward.

I scooted away from him and shook my head. "No. I-I don't want to heal. Or move past this." I met his gaze. "James, I don't ever want to forget."

He took a deep breath. "I'm not saying that you should forget what happened, or forget him. I'm saying that you should heal. There's nothing wrong with moving forward."

I shook my head again, choosing to remain silent for the moment.

"Don't you think that Danny Phantom would want you to be strong? Even in his death?" He asked, his voice quiet. Almost a whisper.

I snapped my head up. "No."

"I'm only saying-"

"You don't understand. You don't know anything." I stood up, my fists clenched at my sides.

He stood up calmly. "I didn't mean that. Look, listen, I-"

"I don't give a damn what you meant or didn't mean. Danny Phantom was a part of me. And its hard for me to move on without him." I realized how true my words were and I started crying again.

"Danny-"

Tears ran down my face. "No. It hurts to breathe just thinking about it. I will never be whole again. Whatever shit you're going to spit at me about grief, you don't understand. It's not the same."

"Danny, grief can make you feel this way. It can make you feel like you're alone – like your situation is different. But this happens to everyone who experiences loss. You're upset, angry, frustrated, depressed-"

"No shit!" I yelled, my voice echoing off the walls.

He stared back at me. "I can help you. Please."

I turned around and marched out the door. I never went back.

That was the last day that I saw my therapist.

* * *

_*Now*_

**Sam's POV:**

_He kissed me! He is kissing me. _

I melt in his arms, loving the way he's cradling my head so softly.

I've wanted this for so long. Needed this, craved this. Craved him.

He runs his fingers through my hair and he whispers my name.

That single utterance is my undoing.

I grab his shirt and start to pull it over his head. There's some resistance at first and I look down.

His chest and stomach are covered in thick white and purple scars.

My heart hammering is the only sound I can hear.

Slowly, Danny raises his arms over his head and allows me to pull his shirt off all the way.

I let his shirt drop onto the kitchen floor and I place my hand on his chest.

He exhales. I look up at him. His eyes are searching my face.

I look back down to his scars and fresh cuts. I gently touch one of the thicker white lines. "Does it hurt?"

He shakes his head in response.

"Did you do all of these?" I ask, my voice tight. Worried.

"No." He says, quietly.

He takes my hand in his and moves it dead center in the middle of his chest. My hand is covering a dark brown scar that extends outward. It's mottled and ridged.

"This one wasn't on purpose." He moves my hand lower, onto his pelvic bone. "And neither was this one."

My hand is now covering a long thin scar that looks about two inches wide and about four inches long. But I could be wrong.

I take a deep breath. "What's this one from?"

"Vlad. The bastard stabbed me when he realized I didn't have any ghost powers. He was going to kill me until…" He trails off.

I look up. "Until?"

He exhales. "Until I asked him to. That apparently took all the fun out of it for him."

My heart hurts for him. _Did he really ask his enemy to kill him? _

I swallow and move my hand back up to the dark brown scar in the middle of his chest. "And this one?"

He closes his eyes and exhales softly. "Umm…that's from a Phantom related injury."

When he opens his eyes again, I can tell his guard's up again. He's slipped behind his mask once more.

_Must we continue to play this game?_

"Funny…I don't remember this one." I say quietly, keeping my eyes locked with his.

"You weren't there when I got it." He says, attempting to close the conversation.

"Danny-" He cuts me off by kissing me again.

My fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling him closer to me.

His kiss isn't the same way it was six months ago. No. That kiss was romantic, passionate.

This kiss is almost scary. It feels hungry, and confused and lost.

I try to pull away but he presses me against the counter and pulls my jacket off.

Part of my brain wants to keep doing this. Just take turns taking each other's clothes off until we both fall onto the pile of clothing and make love like we used to do six months ago.

But the sensible part of my brain knows that's not an option. Danny is hurting right now. He's vulnerable and he only wants affection.

I can't sleep with him knowing that it'll never be anything more than just one night. I want him to heal, to be okay. And I won't take advantage of him like this.

I dig my fingernails into his shoulders and finally break apart from the kiss.

His lips leave mine with a bit of a whimper.

I slowly shake my head, unsure of what to say.

He looks at me through his long dark lashes, his jet-black hair falling in front of his eyes.

To give myself something to do, I slowly lift my hand up to his hair and push it out of his face.

His eyes meet mine. He looks so sad.

I pull him back into another hug and he sniffles.

Gently, I rub his bare back, my fingers feeling some of the scars and newer cuts on his skin.

After a few seconds, he pulls away and wipes at his face.

"Sorry." He says, his voice low.

I shake my head. "No…there's nothing to apologize for."

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

I begin rubbing his back again softly, and he pulls away from me.

He opens his mouth to say something then gives up and closes his mouth.

"Danny. What's going on in that head of yours?" I ask.

He looks away, looking he's mulling his thoughts over.

Just when I think he's going to ignore me, he looks at me again.

"I should tell you something." He whispers.

"Tell me what?" I respond, my own voice dropped to a whisper.

He takes a deep breath. "The truth. What really happened the day after we graduated."

I bite my lip and nod. Whatever it is, I'm prepared for it.

But what he says isn't close to what I thought it was going to be. What he says makes my mouth fall open with shock.


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reading this and who continues to review this. :) You guys make my day. **

**IMPORTANT: So, I've been thinking and I've decided to change my username on this site. It's going to be changed to writergirl or possibly writergirl11. All depends. :P Just wanted to give you guys a heads up so you know that it's still me. :) Anyway, please read this chapter and lemme know what you think in the reviews! **

**Thanks!**

* * *

_*Then*_

I slammed the door shut behind me.

Jazz looked up from the table and checked her watch. "Danny…I didn't expect you back for at least another thirty minutes. What's up?"

"I'm done." I snarled.

She looked concerned. "Danny? Is-"

"Shut up! Okay? Just shut the hell up!" I yelled, whirling around and heading for the stairs.

I heard her chair scrape across the tile as she stood up. "Danny? What's wrong?"

"I'm leaving." I called over my shoulder as I threw my bedroom door open.

After kicking the door closed, I began grabbing my clothes and things and throwing them onto my bed.

"Danny?" She pushed my bedroom door open. "Please, tell me what's going on? Why are you leaving? Did something happen with James?"

"Get out!" I yelled, jerking a suitcase out from underneath my bed.

"No. Not until you tell me what's going on." She said.

I turned around to see my sister standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.

"Why do you even care anymore?" I demanded.

She frowned. "What-"

"I'm nothing! To no one! Why do you even give a damn about a piece of shit like me?" I yelled, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. I wasn't blind. I could see the problems Amity Park had been having.

Tons of people had gone missing because of ghosts. And there wasn't a thing I could do about it anymore.

"Danny, you're not-"

"Don't say it. Don't you dare say it." I jabbed my finger in her direction and took a step backward. "I don't want to hear you lie to me anymore."

She swallowed. "I love you. Okay? You're not 'nothing' to me. You're important to me."

"No." I snapped. "No, quit lying to me, all right? Don't pretend that you even care about this anymore. You never cared!"

She looked hurt at my words, and the sensible side of me knew that I should've stopped, but I didn't.

I kept going, wanting her to hurt the way that I was.

"You never liked my ghost powers. You wanted me to give them up!" I screamed. "You're glad that they did this to me. You're glad that I'm like this."

"Danny, that's not true. I'm hurting for you. I don't like seeing you like this."

"Shut up!" I yelled, covering my ears with my hands. "Get out! Just get out!"

"Danny, please-"

"Get out of here! I hate you! Get out!" I repeated those same words over and over again in a sort of mantra as tears began streaming down my face.

By the time I stopped and finally looked up, she was gone.

I briefly wondered how long I'd been screaming, but I didn't care enough to stop and figure it out.

I shut the door and laid on the bed, giving into the tears. Right now, I wanted to be alone more than I'd ever wanted it before.

I hated my sister, I hated my friends. I hated my ex-girlfriend and my parents, and my teachers, and the kids I used to go to school with. I hated everyone and everything.

But more than that? I hated myself. And I didn't think that anything I could do or anything that anyone else could do would ever make me stop hating myself.

_*Now*_

**Danny's POV:**

My own words are strange to my ears.

"It was my mom's idea." I say, hardly believing myself. It's been almost six months since she told me. The shock really should have worn off by now.

But it hasn't.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asks, looking confused.

I exhale and run a hand through my hair. "The whole removing of my ghost half…that wasn't my dad's idea. It…it was my mom's."

Sam's mouth drops open. "What?"

I swallow hard and continue, knowing that I have to get this out. "She said it was for the best. For my own good."

My ex-girlfriend shakes her head. "I don't understand….all this time I thought it was your dad. Why didn't you tell me?"

I shrug. "I don't know."

"But, you and your dad hate each other. You and your mom seem to get along." She points out.

I nod. "We do now. We didn't right after it happened." I roll my shoulders and continue. "She came to talk to me right after I moved back in with them. She was crying and apologizing. She kept saying how sorry she was. How she wished she could take it all back. And even though none of her words meant that the pain was over, even though they didn't erase her actions…I knew she was serious. I knew that she really was sorry for hurting me. I knew that she so desperately wanted to take it all back, wanted to do things differently. So I gave her my forgiveness. Even though she didn't deserve it."

Sam slowly nods. "But your dad…?"

"I would have forgiven him too." My eyebrows draw down and I feel the anger surge in my chest. "But he'll never deserve it now."

She frowns. "What do you mean? What did he do?"

I shake my head. "He didn't do anything."

I guess Sam picks up on my insistency, because she doesn't ask again. "Well…how about your mom? Have things been different between you two since you gave her your forgiveness?"

She takes my hand again and I shake my head. "Yeah, for the most part. Sometimes I make her feel like shit though."

"Why?" My ex-girlfriend asks me.

I give her a look. "Because I can. And this way she'll never forget what she's done to me. I won't let her."

After I think for a second, I ask her. "Wait…how did you know that me and my mom were on better speaking terms than me and my dad?"

She bites her lip. "Umm…lucky guess?"

I frown. "Sam."

She sighs. "Okay, fine. Jazz…kind of updated me when I told her that I'd be in town over Christmas."

I sigh, irritated. "Seriously?"

She nods. "Yeah. I didn't want to come back not knowing anything about what you were dealing with."

I sigh. "Great. I'll make sure to remember to edit whatever I tell Jazz in the future."

Sam puts a hand on my chest. "Danny. I want you to be okay. I'm here for you."

I scoff and push her hand off my chest. "That's never going to happen." I pick my shirt up from the floor and lay it on the counter.

"Danny…" She exhales and trails off.

I start picking at the bandages and the medical tape surrounding the gauze on my arms.

"Don't do that." Sam whispers, placing her hand on top of mine. "It'll get infected."

"It won't." I reply and rip the bandage off my skin. I wince slightly. "Don't worry about it."

I stare down at my skin, loving the way the cut is healing. The scar will be amazing to touch. I close my eyes just thinking about it.

Sam sounds irritated when she speaks. "How do you know it won't get infected?"

I open my eyes and meet her gaze. "Because one time I cut myself and I didn't want my parents to know. Only we were out of bandages, so I had to use duct tape to cover the cut and keep it from bleeding."

Sam winces before I even finish talking.

"Hurt like hell when I ripped it off, but it wasn't infected."

Sam frowns at me. "You don't know that this one won't be."

I shrug. "I don't care."

She puts a hand to the side of my face. "I wish you cared about yourself more."

I push her away. "Stop touching me."

She stares back at me as I roll the bandage between my fingers.

"Danny-"

"We're not a couple anymore. So keep your hands off of me." I snap.

"_You_ kissed me." She says calmly, a sad look in her eyes.

I shake my head. "Whatever. It doesn't matter." I walk over to the trash can, toss the bandage inside, and walk back over to Sam.

Her eyes follow me as I grab my shirt off the counter and exit the kitchen.


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: Hey readers! I really hope you like this update, I really like Sam's part this time around. :D Sorry. Anyways, I'm going to be super busy this week/weekend and I probably won't have time to write. So you may not see any updates from me for a like a week or two. :P Sorry. Also, I changed my username to ' . '. I originally wanted it to just be 'writergirl' or 'writergirl11' but those were both taken , Okay, I'm just babbling now ha, sorry! please read and tell me what you think of this chapter in the reviews!**

* * *

_*Then*_

I finished packing that night. And in the morning, I left my sister's apartment.

And I didn't go back.

Jazz stood outside my locked door that night, begging me not to go crawling back to our parents.

But it was too late.

I had already made up my mind.

Because if I stayed with Jazz, she would make me talk to a therapist, and I couldn't do that any longer.

Unless I explained to them that I used to be Danny Phantom and that my parents ripped that half away from me, no therapist would ever understand why I was so depressed.

So I left Jazz's place and went back to my parents.

Sure, there were a ton of other places I could have gone.

I could have called up Tucker, explained the whole thing, and roomed with him. I could have called Sam, apologized and begged her to take me back.

I could have fled to the ghost zone. I could have gone to New York and started college anyway.

But I didn't.

Part of me wanted my parents to have to look at me and see that they did this to me. They broke their own son.

I guess I wanted them to feel some sort of guilt from their actions. I guess I wanted them to feel bad about what they had done to me.

And I know that I definitely wanted them to hurt the way I was hurting.

So I went back to their place to do just that.

"Danny!" My mother whispered, staring at me as she stood in the doorway to my home. Their home.

My father looked just as surprised to see me.

I kept my mouth closed, not really sure what to say anyway.

My mom looked down at the suitcase in my hand. "You're moving back in?" She asked, her voice tight, somewhat hopeful.

I nodded and she stepped out of my way. I stepped through the door and dropped my bag on the floor.

"What…how…" My mom shook her head, at a loss for words.

I headed to the kitchen, ignoring both of them. I grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl and bit into it.

My mother followed me into the kitchen and I heard my dad close the door.

"Danny? How's your leg?" She asked.

"It's healed." I said in the sharpest tone I could manage with a mouthful of apple.

My mom looked down to my leg and nodded slowly. "I see…the cast is off." She said in a hopeful voice.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, it is." Duh.

"Where have you been staying?" She asked as my father entered the room.

Jazz didn't tell them? I thought, giving a small shake of my head. "Nowhere. Just around."

My mom bit her lip and nodded.

"That's not an answer." My father said, giving me a look.

I shrugged. "I don't care."

"Danny-"

"Jack, it's okay." My mom turned to face my father, putting a hand on his chest.

I took another bite out of my apple, the whole time watching my father.

He took a deep breath and finally lowered his gaze to meet my mom's. They spoke for a second in a whisper.

My mom turned back around to face me, a sad smile on her face.

"I'm glad you're back, Danny." She said.

I couldn't say that I was. Because I wasn't.

"Whatever." I responded.

My father held my gaze. "That's enough."

I scoffed.

"Listen, I'm not playing with you. You cut this out." He said, glaring at me.

"Whatever." I said with as much venom as I could muster.

It wasn't much, partly because I was exhausted.

And partly because I was just tired. I was tired of being angry with my parents, I was tired of being sad all the time.

I was tired of isolating myself, of being afraid, of never talking about the white elephant in the room.

I was just so damn tired.

My father stared back at me, not knowing anything about the war going on inside my head.

Part of me wanted to hug him, and tell him how much I've missed my dad.

I just wanted the fighting to be over with. And I knew that if I cut the attitude out, and just asked them for help, they would try to figure out a way to restore my ghost half. Well…my mom would.

But the other part of me was still hurting, still grieving Phantom's loss.

And besides that, they bruised my ego. They made me feel like nothing on the inside. They made me feel like just a shell of a person.

And there was no way I could ask them to help me. Not after everything they'd done.

"I'm already sick of your attitude, boy." My father said, interrupting my train of thought.

My mom put her hand on his chest. "Jack, please…"

I opened my mouth to respond but nothing came out. Instead, I walked over to the trash can and chucked the apple core inside.

If I could think of a coherent sentence to string together, I might have responded to him.

But I could barely think straight.

So I closed the trash can lid and walked past my parents and up the stairs.

Neither one of them protested and a small part of me wished they had.

* * *

_*Now*_

**Sam's POV:**

My hands ball into fists. Before my brain can catch up , and tell me it's a bad idea, I stalk after Danny.

"Hey!" I yell and he turns around, a puzzled expression on his face.

"What makes you think you have the right to say that to me? You kissed me!" I jab a finger into his chest.

He takes a breath but I cut him off.

"And another thing. You keep walking around, talking about how badly you want to get away from your parents and how much you hate them, but you're not doing anything to get away from them." My hands are on my hips now. I don't exactly remember placing them."

His eyebrows draw down. "What makes you think I haven't tried?"

"Oh please." I snap. "Do not feed me that line of bullshit, Danny."

"I have nowhere else to go." He says, his expression both sad and angry.

"How about with your sister?" I ask. "She told you her apartment is always open."

He shakes his head.

Why isn't he listening!?

He pulls his shirt on. "You don't understand."

"Like hell I don't understand! Danny, I have known you since you were twelve. I know you better than anyone else does." I snap.

"Look, it's just a little more complicated than that. Jazz is…" He trails off and lets out a breath.

"Fine." I snap, feeling so irritated with this boy. "If she won't work out, how come you don't go to college like you originally planned?"

He shrugs. "I changed my mind. I don't want to do that anymore."

"Then figure out what you do want to do with your life." I take a breath. "Figure out what you want and go after it. Be the adventurous boy I once knew."

"That adventurous boy died when his parents ripped it away from him."

"Do you have any idea how often you say that?" I demand. "If you don't like your living situation, then do something about it. Because no one is going to do it for you!"

"Sam, it's not that simple." He sighs.

"It is. It's really simple. I decided I wanted to chase after this music thing, so guess what? I'm doing it. I'm going after what I want to do with my life. And you can too, Danny." I tell him.

He shakes his head. "Yeah, well. You didn't lose half of yourself this past summer."

"You are the same person you have always been!" I slam my hands into his chest and shove him backward.

He stumbles a bit and looks into my eyes, confused.

"You lived before Phantom, you can live after him. Without him!" I tell him, still breathing hard.

"Sam, it's so much different than you realize. He was a part of me for so long." He starts but I cut him off.

"You're still you! You can still do what Danny Fenton wants. Just because Phantom's dead doesn't mean that Fenton has to live like he is too!" I yell, slamming my hands against his chest again.

Danny suddenly grabs a hold of my wrists and looks into my eyes, with the scariest rage I've ever seen in his eyes.

"I live like I'm dead because I wish I were. Do you not understand what it feels like to hate yourself so much, that you'd rather tear your skin off than talk about it?" He demands.

"Danny-"

"Shut up." He snaps. "It's my turn to talk."

I close my mouth.

"You keep saying how I could just move out and start over. Move on with my life, if only I would try." He says. "But I can't. Not with this depression and anger hanging on like a weight around my neck."

With every word, he squeezes my wrists tighter and tighter, seeming not to notice.

Finally I have to say something.

"Danny, please." I wince. "You're hurting me."

He releases my wrists instantly. He balls his hands into fist but not before I see them shaking. His gaze is on the ground.

"I'm sorry." Danny tells me.

I put a hand under his chin and lift his face toward me again. "Danny, you can get help. You can talk to someone about this."

He closes his eyes, looking like he's struggling with something.

"You can heal." I whisper.

He shakes his head. "No…I-I don't want to heal, Sam."

"Why not?" I question.

He opens his eyes and the rage I saw earlier is gone. Replaced with sadness.

One so strong, I feel like crying just looking at him.

He sighs heavily, completing the picture. "If I heal, I'll forgive. And I don't want to ever forgive my parents for what they've done."

I bite my lip. "You said you've already forgiven your mom."

He shakes his head. "No…that's just what I told her. In my heart, I know I haven't. And I don't want to."

I take a breath and move my hand up to his cheek.

Whispering, I reply. "You don't have to forgive just to heal."

He exhales heavily. "I'm going to see a therapist tomorrow."

My eyebrows raise. "Really?"

He nods. "Yeah. Jazz asked me to go. I figured I'd give it another shot. It's been like four months."

I take a deep breath. "I-I think that's a good idea."

He bites his lip and checks his watch.

Danny runs a hand through his floppy black hair.

"You wanna get something to eat?" He asks me.

I give a small nod. "Okay. That sounds fine."

"Come on." He says, grabbing his jacket off the back of the couch.

I put my purse strap on my shoulder. "Your car or mine?"

He gives a small, quiet laugh. "Uhh, yours."

I shake my head, curious as to why he laughed, but I shrug it off. "All right."

He opens the front door and the two of us step out onto the porch.

"Come on." He says quietly, his breath coming out in wisps in the chilly air. "Let's go."

"Okay." I reply.

He locks his front door and walks down the steps. "Where's your car?"

"This way." I say and lead him down the street.

I think back over our conversation and wish there was some way I could help him. Some way I could reach him.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: Sorry readers! I know I took FOREVER on this update :( But I refuse to upload sub-standard writing. You guys wait patiently for it, so I believe you guys deserve quality writing :) Please let me know what you think of this update in the reviews! And as always, thanks and enjoy!**

* * *

_*Then*_

I roll over in my bed, squinting against the sunlight.

It's morning? The last thing I remember was collapsing into my bed, around….four in the afternoon.

How could I have slept that long? I run a hand through my hair and exhale heavily.

I'm back in my parent's house. I'm not exactly sure what my parents are expecting me to do today, but I'm sure as hell not going to stick around and talk with them.

Reluncantly, I sit up in my bed and listen for any sounds downstairs.

If either one of them is still here, I'd rather wait upstairs until they leave. I want to have as little interaction with them as possible. For as long as possible.

I take a deep breath and rise from my bed.

Quietly, I creak my bedroom door open a crack and listen. Silence is the only sound.

I breathe a quiet sigh of relief and open my door all the way. At least I'm alone for right now.

After last night? I really don't feel like having to talk to anyone.

Last night was spent tossing and turning, plagued with nightmares. I didn't even think about how bad the nightmares would be if I returned to my home.

Everything's just so messed up right now. Everything feels so broken.

Then again…maybe that's just me.

I take a quick shower and change into some clean clothes. It feels strange to be back in this house.

Sleeping in the same house my parents sleep in.

Living with them again.

I took a breath and headed down the stairs. I wasn't exactly sure where I would go, but I knew I had to get out of this house.

Moving back here was a terrible idea.

But I'd made my bed and now I had to lie in it.

I stepped into the kitchen to grab something to eat, and I saw my dad standing by the coffee pot.

He turned around and stared at me, a look of disdain on his face.

I stood in the doorway, staring back at him.

For a few brief seconds, I couldn't force my legs to move.

But he looked away with a scoff and it broke me from the trance.

I balled my hands into fists and breezed past him, headed toward the pantry. I rummaged through the cabinets, looking for something I could eat on the go.

Now that I knew that one of them was in the house with me, I couldn't wait to get out.

I didn't want to be around either one of them, but I got the distinct feeling that my father was angry with me.

As if he had any damn right to be. He's the one that nearly destroyed me.

Not the other way around.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked, interrupting my train of thought.

I glanced over at him.

He wasn't even looking at me. He didn't care.

He was just filling up the silence.

"Fine." I replied with a bit of an edge to my tone.

He nodded. "Good." His words were hollow. Meaningless to me.

I sighed, feeling really pissed off and slammed the cabinet door shut.

He looked at me, an irritated look on his face.

"What's your problem?" He demanded.

"You!" I yelled. "You're my problem! Do you even still care about me? At all?"

He opened his mouth to respond but I cut him off.

"Well guess what? I don't care anymore. I hate you!" I screamed, feeling my anger ebb it's way toward sadness. "Does that mean anything to you, dad? I hate you."

He blinked slowly and said three sickening words. "The feeling's mutual."

Even though I wanted to hate him, and not give a damn what he thought about me, it still hurt to hear him say that he hated me.

My own father.

I took a shaky breath as he went on.

"I hated you the moment I realized you were half-ghost. How could you do that to us? After everything we taught you about how horrible ghosts are…how could you harbor one inside your own body?" He looked at me with a look of disgust on his face.

"I wasn't harboring him!" I yelled. "He was me!"

My father shook his head.

"You and mom broke a part of your child!" My own voice betrayed me and cracked on the last few words.

"Daniel, as far as I'm concerned, you're no longer my child." He said it so flatly. Like his words wouldn't hurt.

And I responded in the last way he probably expected.

I burst into tears.

* * *

_*Now*_

I bring the cup to my lips again and swallow a mouthful of ice cold water.

Sam's sitting across from me at the Chinese restaurant we chose to eat.

We sit there in a bit of an awkward silence, neither one of us really sure what to do.

Our food isn't quite ready yet, so we sit there in silence, both trying to look at each other but not be caught.

I should try to start a conversation with her, to difuse the awkwardness between us.

But I'm too lost in my own thoughts, remembering things I'd much rather forget.

I look across the table, feeling her eyes on me.

She looks away.

I drop my gaze to the table.

"Um…" She starts.

I look back up at her. She's playing with her chopsticks.

"Everything's such a mess." She mumbles.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

She looks up to meet my gaze. "You…me. Us. Just…everything."

I take a deep breath. "'Us' has been messed up for a long time, Sam."

She sighs. "I know." She sets her chopsticks down onto her napkin just as I start playing with my own napkin.

If I could diffuse the awkward, I would. I'd rather be talking and laughing with her, and perhaps later, making out.

But for now, the tension remains. The awkwardness still exists.

Our order number is called and we both stand to retrieve it.

"I've got it." I tell her.

She eases back down into her seat. "You sure?"

I nod. "Yeah, be right back."

She starts fiddling with her chopsticks again as I walk up to the counter.

I slide my receipt across the order counter so the cashier can check the order number.

The woman reaches for the receipt and falters, her hand stopping mid-air about an inch away from the receipt.

I flick my gaze up to look at her.

She's just standing there, staring down at the counter.

Slowly, she looks up to me.

I raise an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

The woman bites her lip and slowly moves her hand onto my exposed wrist.

She places her first two fingers on top of a scar on my skin.

"Dear. Please…don't." She whispers, holding my gaze.

I jerk my arm away from her. "My order is number 27."

She continues to look at me like she wants to help me. But there's nothing she can do.

No one can do anything.

She exhales heavily and withdraws her hand. "Yes, sir."

The woman taps something onto her keyboard, then looks up at me to tell me the price.

I hand her my debit card and unconsciously tug on my sleeves.

She hands the card back to me an expression of pity on her face.

I take it from her, not really meeting her eyes.

She turns around as I slide my card back into my wallet.

The woman turns back around and hands me two bags. "Here you are, sir. I hope you have a great day."

"Thank you." I reply, taking them from her. "You too."

Sam looks up as I approach our table.

I place the bags on the table in front of her. "You can go ahead and start eating. I'll be right back." I quietly say, then turn and walk away.

I was trying to appear calm as I walked away from her, but I'm pretty sure that it looked like I ran to the bathroom.

I lock myself in a stall and roll my sleeve up. I'll never be able to relax if I don't care of this now.

The itch had been there since Sam first saw my scars.

But when that bitch behind the counter said something to me, I felt the itch even stronger.

I slide my razor blade out of my pocket and run it across my wrists gently.

I close my eyes.

The cool metal feels so good against my skin.

But it's not enough.

I press down harder and snap my eyes open. Sliding the blade quickly across my flesh gives me what I want.

That instant feeling of pain, and relief. I exhale softly and lean my head against the stall door.

This is it.

This is why I started cutting myself. For these brief flashes of relief. These amazing moments where I feel like nothing and no one mattered.

It was just me and my blade.

But one cut wasn't enough this time. I needed more. I cut four more times then switched wrists.

There was very little skin left that wasn't covered in scars or fresh cuts. Many times while cutting myself, I'd accidentally re-open an old cut, or nick a scar.

I was feeling so high off this pain, that I shut the world out for a moment longer.

It was just me…and my blade.


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N: Woo, an update! *cough* I'm sorry this took so long *cough* I'd like to thank .ryder for helping me come up with the OC 'Nameless'. That character is important, and there's a reason his name is Nameless. You'll find out in the next few updates :) For now, I hope you enjoy this newest installment in my angsty fanfiction. Please let me know what you think in the reviews! Thanks! **

* * *

_*Then*_

My father didn't quite know what to do. He took a small step toward me, almost like he wanted to comfort me.

I'll never know his intention though. Because as soon as he stepped toward me, I bolted.

I grabbed my shoes off the stairs and exited the house.

Numerous times, I tried to tell myself to stop crying, but it was almost impossible to stop.

My heart hurt so badly and I could barely breathe.

I continued walking down the sidewalk, going nowhere really.

The tears wouldn't stop coming, and by now I noticed a few people looking in my general direction. If I had been hurting less, I might've cared more.

But I wasn't. So I didn't.

Several hours passed this way, me wandering around aimlessly, acting like a pathetic excuse for a teenage boy.

Soon, dusk began to settle in and I continued on my way to nowhere.

I turned down an alleyway and started taking some back roads. Some darker streets. These weren't the kind of streets very many people went on.

As I ghost, I didn't fear these streets – or the thugs that inhabited them.

Now? As a human?

I was too lost in my own misery to even realize the gravity of where I was.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." Someone hissed behind me.

I turned around to look at the person. Johnny 13 sat on his motorcycle, half-hidden in the late dusk shadows.

His ghostly glow illuminated his body and motorcycle, making him stand out despite the shadows surrounding him.

I crossed my arms, thankful that I'd stopped crying hours earlier.

"We haven't seen you around the ghost zone lately, punk. And apparently you closed the portal. What gives?" He questioned, an amused smirk playing up his features.

"I'm really not in the mood, Johnny." I snarled.

He chuckled, rolling a coin across the back of his knuckles. "I'm only curious. Hey, where'd that pretty little minx of yours go, boy? She was a sight."

I clenched my hands into fists. "What do you want, Johnny?"

He grinned and thrust his hand forward, sending his shadow toward me.

Shadow stopped a few feet from me, grinning. Flicking his tail back and forth, he let out a hungry growl from his chest.

Unfazed, I continued to stare at Johnny. "You didn't answer my question. What do you want?" I demanded, crossing my arms tighter, my hands still clenched into fists.

His shadow grinned and Johnny gave a laugh. "What do you think I want, Phantom? Revenge." He growled.

I rose an eyebrow. "What have I ever done to you? Besides shoving you in a thermos?"

He laughed. "Not revenge on you, dimwit. I'm here for revenge on Nameless. We have a history." He clenched his handle bars tighter.

"What kind of history?" I asked.

He laughed, his tone light. "That's a story for another day, Phantom."

I shook my head. "Fine, then clear the area. Take your fight to the ghost zone."

"I wish I could, kid. But Nameless fled to Amity Park. The fight's going to happen here whether I want it to, or not." He gave a small shrug, that infuriating smirk still on his face.

I frowned. "And you won't lift a finger to take it elsewhere, will you?"

He winked. "Nope."

I let out a growl. "Charming, 13. Why don't you beat it?"

He revved his cycle's engine. "Nah, I don't think so, kid. I'm enjoying myself. Exploring your world is a lot more fun than I realized."

"Then just stay out of my way." I growled, uncrossing my arms.

Johnny's eyebrows rose onto his forehead. "Whoa, little man. What's got you wound tighter than a spring?"

I jabbed a finger in his direction. "You just need to beat it. I'm not in the mood to deal with your stupid ass."

He grinned, his eyebrows relaxing. "What's gotten into you? You usually make a few sarcastic remarks then suck me into your thermos."

"Like I said. Not in the mood." I snapped. "Get lost."

He revved his engine again. "Fine. I'm gone."

I watched him speed away on his motorcycle, kicking up dust clouds in his wake.

* * *

_*Now*_

**Sam's POV:  
**  
I check my watch. Danny's been in the bathroom for quite a while. I fidget with my chopsticks. Even though I've opened my tray and can smell my food, I don't have the stomach for it right now.

I bite my lip and check my watch again. He should have been back before now. Is something wrong?

Does he regret meeting up with me?

I cross my arms, my nerves combating my hunger. Is he okay?

As soon as that thought crosses my mind, he appears.

"Hey." He says quietly, sliding into the booth.

I look at him. He seems much more relaxed than before.

He opens his container of food then looks at me. "What?"

"Nothing." I lie then add. "Is everything okay?"

He nods. "Why wouldn't it be?" He digs his chopsticks into the container and swallows a mouthful of rice.

I hesitantly pick up my chopsticks again and stir the rice around in my container. Something's bothering him and he won't talk about it.

He never talks about it.

I look at him. He looks up.

"What?" He asks again, his eyes regarding me suspiciously.

I shake my head. "Nothing. Just…wondering."

"About what?" He asks, slurping up a clump of noodles.

A small smile crosses my face. That almost reminded me of the old Danny.

"About some…stuff. And when you exactly started…" I trail off.

He swallows and brings his cup to his mouth.

"I'm uh," He fiddles with his chopsticks nervously. "This isn't the place to talk, Sam."

I bite my lip and pick up a piece of chicken. "That's what I figured." I bite into the chicken. "But, maybe we can talk after dinner?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I don't know. My parents will be home soon, we won't be able to talk for long." He pauses and checks his watch. "Actually, we probably won't be able to talk at all. They're most likely home already."

"We could… go back to my house." I suggest in a whisper, forcing myself to look at him.

He flicks his gaze to mine and holds it there for a few minutes.

My heart's hammering around inside my chest. "I-If you want to." I nervously add.

He drops his gaze to the table and stirs his food. "What about your parents?"

I give a nervous laugh. "Danny, don't you remember my house? It's huge. There's no way they'd hear us."

He looks back up to me.

I take a breath and drop my gaze to my own tray. "We don't have to if you don't want to."

Danny whispers something I don't hear, so I look up at him. "What'd you say?" I ask.

His cheeks flush and he looks away from me. "I want to." He says, then slowly looks back at me and adds. "I-I want you."

My heart skips a beat and I bite my lip to stop from giggling nervously. Did I hear him right? He wants me?

I take a breath. "We'll go to my house after we leave here."

He nods, a small smile on his face. I smile back and swallow another bite of chicken.

Maybe our situation isn't completely hopeless after all!


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: Hi readers. I want to, ah, apologize for the lack of updates. I'm in the process of starting up a new blog and I really have been busy lately. I will be writing like a mad woman tomorrow though because inspiration hit again! :D Please let me know what you think of this chapter in the reviews! **

* * *

_*Then*_

Nameless? Who was Johnny talking about? My stomach growled and I realized I probably needed food. I hadn't eaten anything since last night.

I stood there for a few seconds longer watching Johnny disappear into the night. Then I turned around and headed back toward town.

On my way out of the alleyway my cell phone started ringing, startling me. I slid my phone out of my pocket to check the screen. Tucker was calling me. I hesitated before pressing the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey man, how you doing, buddy?" he responded.

What the hell?

It was late August and he and I hadn't spoken in two months.

Oh, right…he was supposed to be away at some tech camp.

"Hey, I'm fine. How's camp?" I asked.

"Oh, that ended about a week ago. I got back a few days ago," he said.

"That's great." I managed, still wondering why he'd called me. "So what's up? You got something on your mind?"

"Nah, not really. I'm actually about to order some pizza. You in?" he asked.

"Uh…" my stomach growled. "Sure. You at your house?"

"Yeah, the rents are gone for the evening," he said.

"Okay. I'll be by in like twenty minutes," I said.

"Cool, all right. I'll see you then," Tucker told me.

We hung up and I started toward his house. Even though I didn't want to tell Tucker the things my parents had done, I knew it was only a matter of time before it came to that.

Eventually, Tuck would ask about my ghost activity, and how it had all been since he and Sam were gone for almost the whole summer.

I rang the doorbell and shuffled my feet, waiting for Tucker to answer the door.

The door swung open and he gave me a smile. "Hey man," he said, his phone in his other hand. "I just ordered the pizza, so it'll be here in a bit."

"You got meat-lovers, didn't you?" I asked a smile on my face as I stepped into the house.

He laughed and nodded. "You know me, dude."

I chuckled as he closed the front door. "So I figured we'd play video games and catch up a little?" he suggested.

"Sure." I replied.

"Cool. How's it been around here?" he asked leading the way into his living room.

I followed behind him, mulling over my options. "Interesting," I finally decided on.

"Yeah?" he asked plugging up his x-box, his back to me. "Why you say that?"

I gave a small shrug when he turned around. Tucker laughed and picked up the controllers.

He handed one to me and sat down on the edge of the couch. "How's the ghost activity been?"

I sat down on the couch gingerly, thinking about how to answer. "Not too bad lately," I bit the side of my lip and continued. "Actually, I just ran into Johnny 13 right before you called me."

"What did he want? You haven't dealt with him in years…" Tucker said, starting the game.

I fiddled with the controller. "He said he was looking for someone," I glanced up at Tucker. "Someone who goes by the name of 'Nameless'?" I asked. Maybe Tucker had heard of him. He did a lot of the research for me and Sam.

He frowned and used his controller to select the player he was going to be. "Never heard of that ghost. Is it a dude or a girl?" he questioned.

I gave a shrug and selected my player. "I got the idea that it's a guy but I don't know. I was hoping you would know something about him..."

Tucker shook his head. "No, I've never heard of that. But I can look him up if you want."

I gave a nod. "That'd be great, actually."

"And if you need help kicking ghost butt, I'll be there," he grinned.

I returned his smile. "I'll let you know."

"Speaking of kicking butt," he laughed, shoving my player off the edge of the platform, earning himself twenty points. "Yes! The master's still got it."

I laughed as my player jumped back onto the platform. "You're in for it, Tuck."

* * *

_*Now*_

Sam shushes me and lets out a giggle. I grin at her easy, carefree laughter.

It reminds me of when things were simple.

We're standing in her backyard, trying to open her back door. I swipe the keys from her. "You're just not turning it hard enough."

She giggles again and takes the keys back. "No, I am not letting you manhandle your way into my house."

I wink at her. "You didn't mind it so much in high school," I gently pull her closer to me, using her belt loop. "You know, when I pressed you up against this door and kissed you in the rain."

The flush in her cheeks appears instantaneously. "Uh…we were, um…" She stammers before I cover her lips with my own.

She lets out a small gasp then drops her purse on the ground. She wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me closer.

I kiss her a final time then pull away, staring into her violet eyes.

She blinks slowly, searching my face.

"I wonder…" I whisper.

She shivers and whispers back. "What?" I lean closer to her and exhale gently my breath swirling in the cold air between us.

She bites her lip. "What is it?"

"I wonder..." I repeat. "If I can still climb your trellis."

She gives me a confused look and I grin. "Remember? Fall of our junior year, you dared me to climb your trellis to get into your bedroom."

She gives a nervous laugh. "Y-yeah, but that was a long time ago, Danny. I don't know if it's such a good idea."

I grin at her. "You worry too much. I could still do it."

Another nervous laugh escapes her. "Please...I don't want to have to take you to the hospital for spinal injuries."

"You won't," I tell her. "Stop worrying," I pull away from her and turn toward her trellis. "You can use the back door. I'm climbing up this way."

I put one foot through one of the holes in the trellis and begin climbing.

Sam reaches out for me. "Please, get down from there, you're going to fall."

I turn my head to look at her over my shoulder. "I'm fine, see? Just relax."

She bites her lip. "Danny, that's my trellis. I-I don't want you climbing it."

I raise an eyebrow. "Really? You're going to kick me off it? Why? I'm fine."

"You're going to get hurt," she makes a small noise. "Please."

A small laugh escapes me. "Sam..."

"Fine. If you climb up that way..." she trails off, her breath swirling in the air in front of her.

I take another step up the trellis. "If I climb up this way, what?"

Sam exhaled again. "I-If you climb up that way, when we get up there you have to kiss me again."

A small smile crosses my face. "So...if I climb up this trellis. You'll make me kiss you again?" she nods and I smile. "Fine." I turn around and without looking back at her, I easily climb the trellis and climb into her bedroom.


End file.
